The Last Crusade
by martin.reed.182
Summary: Four childhood friends discover that their friendship goes back a lot farther than they thought.
1. MMPD

**The Last Crusade**

by CyborgSamurai

Chapter 1:

MMPD

Home.

Boy, is _that _a loaded word. Just saying it out loud immediately puts a picture in your head, doesn't it? Sights, smells, items, memories, friends, families, events, thoughts, hopes, dreams, desires... a million things all neatly tied up and presented in a succinct little package. _Abuela_ would no doubt comment on how American that whole idea seems, and while I don't see how America has anything to do with it, you learn to keep your opinions to yourself after a few smacks upside the head.

I've always thought that home means something a little different to everybody. I can certainly see why most people associate it with a location, but for me, the importance of 'home' isn't so much in the location of a building, but the location of the people that receive you.

With this in mind, I can say that I never lost my home, despite all that has happened.

Ah, but where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Magellan Guillermo Raimundo. Yes, that's my actual name, both my grandfathers demanded that my parents' first son be named after them, and they flipped a coin to see who got my first and middle names. No, you did not kill my father; you needn't prepare to die. Yes, I'm Spanish and I speak the language fluently. No, I won't teach you any curse words. Yes, the accent is real, my grandparents are first generation immigrants and they babysat my sister and I when we were kids. No, I don't know any good Spanish recipes because I'm a terrible cook. I've literally managed to set juice on fire, as my mother will tell you if she's known you for longer than five minutes. Yes, I'm aware that I've been described as a 'pretty boy.' No, I'm not interested in a relationship right now. I'm sorry to dash your dreams of living _la vida loca_ on the rocks.

Have we gotten that out of our systems?

Good.

Call me Mage.

Pretty cool, huh? My parents gave me the nickname to save me from grief in school, and the attempt was successful for the most part. Sure, I still had to endure the usual snickering and occasional jibes that came with the first day when the teacher belted out my full name, but a simple correction and confirmation were enough to set the record straight. Things became even cooler when I learned that a 'Mage' was a spellcaster class in a ton of video games, so needless to say, I took to them like white on rice.

It was actually this eclectic interest that led me to meeting the three best friends I've ever had, although video games weren't what first drew us together. The initial novelty was that we all shared a birthday, and this coincidence led to us always holding our birthday parties together. Our friendship took off after that, and even though this tradition had become an inconvenience for me in recent years, I still felt the need to honor it.

And it was a good thing I did, too, for it was on this day, on the twenty-fifth anniversary of our births, that our world changed forever.

Nostalgia hit me like a tidal wave as I drove back into my hometown for the first time in months. It was May 1st, 2020, and winter this year had been late in making way for spring. The snow had only just finally melted, there was still a chill in the air, and the trees hadn't gotten the memo that they were supposed to be sprouting leaves. I didn't mind living in the north for the most part, but it was years like this that made me secretly wish I lived somewhere warmer.

The town itself looked the exact same as always, which is to say, sleepy, outdated, and in sore need of a paint job. I've nothing against my home, as I believe hating the place you grew up in is akin to hating a part of yourself, but there isn't much opportunity here if you aren't a farmer. Seeing as I'm not exactly the farming type, I left for college immediately after high school.

I passed by my familiar haunts with only a second glance and continued out of town into the country. My family lived in town, but they were currently away on a trip. A smattering of phone calls throughout the day assured me I was remembered on my special day, so I was only a little saddened at not seeing any of them. They had their lives, I had mine, and sometimes a meeting just isn't in the cards.

I turned off onto a familiar dirt road, made my way past acres of dormant farmland and swampy forest, then pulled into the driveway of a brown split-level house with three parked cars outside. Sure enough, I was the last one there. Then again, I had the farthest to drive, so it wasn't much of a surprise. I'd gotten a job at a local IT firm once I'd gotten my degree, and while it wasn't the most glamorous of jobs, it paid the bills and allowed me to live on my own. I'd always had a streak of independence along with a fierce desire to prove myself, which has caused me to push myself harder than my peers. It's been said by certain individuals that it's turned me into a 'high-strung neurotic perfectionist,' but the aforementioned individuals didn't have degrees or apartments or a steady career, so I didn't really care what they thought.

I stepped out of my car and let the sharp, unpolluted air of the country force its way down my lungs with only the barest of breaths. Damn, I'd missed this. I would always be a city boy at heart, but there are just some things you can't beat about the country. I stood there and just breathed for a few seconds, then finally went to the back seat and pulled out three separate wrapped parcels. Taking care to balance them, I went to the door and let myself in without knocking.

"Go away! We're armed and drunk!"

I didn't even bat an eyelash. I hummed to myself and took off my shoes as I hung up my coat on the wall. The house was warm, smelled like cigarette smoke and pizza, and the sounds of a video game could be heard from up a set of stairs.

A solid, blonde-haired man wearing a stained wife beater and ripped jeans appeared at the top of the stairs. He was holding a open beer in one hand, a pistol of some kind in the other, and a lit cigarette in his mouth. He made a show of staggering and trying to cock the weapon before pointing it at me.

"Now look 'ere, I dun care wut'cher shellin', you can take that mochachino face of yoursh and hop it back over the border!"

I calmly walked up the stairs. "Dylan, you did this last year. I'm pretty sure that's even the same shirt."

Dylan. The jokester and daredevil of the group. He's one of the nicest guys you'll ever meet, but his impulsiveness is best taken in small doses. His short fuse and stubborn streak leave something to be desired, too, but there's something to be said about being friends with a guy who's not afraid to get his hands dirty.

A smirk crept up on Dylan's face. He lowered the fake gun and took a swig of his beer before stepping back to let me in. "This is a _new _shirt, thank you very much. Do you have any idea how hard it is to make these stains permanent?"

"You're a regular Michelangelo," I deadpanned. I saw that there was a small pile of presents sitting on the kitchen table. I went over and added mine, then came back and gave him a hug.

"Oy, Dyaln!" A new voice yelled from the living room. "Get your ass back here so I can finish kicking it!"

The speaker was a lanky, black-haired man in a set of worn work clothes. He was sitting on the couch while holding a video game controller in his hands, and seemed none too happy that the word 'PAUSE' was flashing in the middle of the TV screen.

Dylan took a lazy drag from his cigarette. "Cool your jets, Mike. I'll finish spanking you when I'm good and ready."

Mike. Probably the most laid back guy you'll ever meet. I can't tell you how many times I've been close to freaking out about something, only to have him pull me aside and calm me down. Problem is, that all goes out the window when you tap into his competitive side. Dylan has always had a knack for doing this, and if I had a nickel for the amount of petty squabbles those two have had, I could pay off my student loans.

Mike gestured to the TV. "You used Mage as an excuse to pause RIGHT when I was about to get a ring out on you! Now you're gonna know what's coming and block it!"

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because I knew you were gonna start a combo on me when he walked in through the door. Excuse me for wanting to say hi to the guy we haven't seen for a whole year!"

I frowned. "A year? It hasn't been that long, dude. You guys saw me at Christmas."

"You're thinking of the Christmas before last, Mage."

A brown-haired man in a blue shirt and jeans walked out of the kitchen holding two steaming pizzas. He set them down on the coffee table before looking up at me. "We haven't seen you since our last birthday party. Hi, by the way."

I laughed sheepishly as I realized he was right. "Hi, Phil."

Phil, Mike's cousin. He's one of those guys that everyone likes, but no one's really sure why. He moved to the area back in middle school. He was actually a bully at first, but that was only because he'd been picked on at his other school and was trying to save face. He's really quiet and has a tendency to obsess on things, but that sometimes leads him to spot things that others have missed... such as a house in good shape that goes in foreclosure, and the bank puts it on the market at a fraction of the price.

Phil smiled at me, then looked to Dylan and Mike, who had just resumed their game. "Now that Mage's here, you guys wanna do presents now, or wait until after food?"

The only response was the furious clicking of buttons and analog sticks. Mike's brow was furrowed in concentration while Dylan was gritting his teeth. Suddenly, there was a loud death wail, followed by an announcer declaring, "K.O!"

Dylan fist pumped and let out a victorious cheer. "Aw, yeah! Tie breaker goes to me!" He stood up and began doing what can only be described as a celebratory booty dance.

"That wasn't fair!" Mike protested loudly. "Mage interfered! I demand a rematch!"

"I interfered?!" I folded my arms. "Hey now, don't go blaming this on me! It's not my fault that you suck."

Mike gave me the stink eye. I stuck out my tongue in response. Dylan began raising the roof. We did this for all of three seconds before we burst out laughing. Hey, just because we were turning twenty-five didn't mean we had to act like it. It was always like this, though, just bullshitting and giving each other harmless flak. There was something comforting about knowing that even though I hadn't seen these guys for a while, I could just pick up right where I'd left off.

Phil waved his arms at us. "Hello? Serious question, guys! Food, or presents?"

Mike put down his controller and warily eyed the steaming pizza. "I don't feel like burning my mouth. I say presents."

"Agreed," I said.

"Yeah, presents," Dylan said.

"Excellent," Dylan said in a deep voice as he rubbed his hands together. "Let the annual MMPD meeting for world domina—I mean, the super happy funtime birthday party extravaganza commence!"

MMPD. It was what we called ourselves. Not sure why, when, or even which one of us came up with it, but there it was. All of our parents and the majority of our graduating class knew of our little group name, and we'd made things like t-shirts and ID cards that had the abbreviation proudly emblazoned on them. Part of me felt a little bad at being a part of what essentially amounted to a clique, but never bad enough to do anything about it. I'm not really sure what that says about me as a person.

We all went over to the kitchen table to exchange gifts. You might think that we'd just go at it in a royal free-for-all, but had an actual method to this. Every year we went through the letters of MMPD to decide who got to open presents first, and since Mike had gone first last year, I got to go first now.

"Go for it, Mage." Phil handed me a small box wrapped in blue paper.

I tore apart the paper, then gasped as I beheld my bounty. It was a box of small bottles the size of five hour energy drinks. I checked the side of the box to make sure it was what I thought it was.

_Flatline® Dietary Supplement: Über Tryhard!_

_Flatline® Über Tryhard__is the pinnacle of Biochemistry technology specifically designed to make you burn fat in SECONDS! Guaranteed to keep you awake for days on end! Now in three delicious flavors!_

_WARNING: Contains caffeine comparable to five cups of the leading premium coffee. Do not exceed one bottle of Flatline® Über Tryhard__within twenty four hours. Symptoms of caffeine overdose include excess energy, restlessness, nervousness, increased heartbeat, anxiety, sweating, and dizziness. Do not take if you are pregnant, nursing, under twelve years of age, are taking medication, have a medical condition, or are allergic to shellfish._

The others were all laughing now as I slowly looked up at Phil in awe. "I didn't even know they still sold this!"

Phil was wearing a smug grin. "They don't. I got it off Ebay."

"Think of it as a memento," Dylan said with a wink. "Though I doubt any of us could forget that weekend even if we tried."

What he was referring to was—you know what? Never mind. Trying to describe some things with words simply doesn't do them justice. All you need to know is that we were each grounded for three months, no charges were filed, and we made the front page of the local paper.

I facepalmed. "If I'd known my dad had that much duct tape—"

"STOP," said a chorus of three voices.

"You try to apologize every time it gets brought up." Phil produced a paper bag and shoved the wrapping paper into it. "We were stupid teenagers, and stupid teenagers don't read the warning labels on things. Now, when you use things in the way they're _supposed_ to be used, suddenly everything works out fine! I actually bought a second case of this stuff for when I get scheduled for a night shift. They work wonders."

I looked over at him. I knew Phil's work schedule was sporadic, but this was the first I'd heard of him having to pull all-nighters. "Do you have to do that often?"

Phil nodded. "I have to do one tonight, actually. I'll be heading to work a little after midnight."

I grimaced. That had to be murder on his sleep schedule. No wonder he wanted the good stuff.

"My turn!" Dylan handed me a long, narrow box about four feet long. I blinked several times as I stared at the package, then felt my heart skip a beat. I got goosebumps as I felt its weight.

"You didn't," I whispered.

Dylan put his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands.

"Open that sucker up."

It was with shaky hands that I complied. I carefully lifted the lid, and... okay, I admit it, I let out a girlish squeal. A beautiful Spanish rapier rested within the box. The curved, complex hilt was pure white and swept around twice to form the handguard. The blade was an inch wide, a little over three feet long, and ended in a sharp, pointed tip. A golden metal scabbard rested beside the rapier that was engraved with, '_MMPD Para Vida.' _

_"Madre de Dios..." _I reached in and took out the sword. The grip fit my hand perfectly and was wrapped in black embossed leather. The balance was perfect, and the edge glinted dangerously as it caught the light. I took a few steps back from the table and inspected the blade.

"Careful, Mage," Dylan said quickly. "That's the real deal. You could seriously mess someone up with that thing."

I knew that the instant I saw it, but I appreciated him telling me all the same. I'd taken fencing lessons all throughout school, and the guys knew I'd always wished I could get a real rapier some day. I'd had a few opportunities since college, but unforeseen expenses had always come up.

"I can't believe it!" I set the weapon back in its box and did a happy little dance. "My own rapier! My own rapier! My own rapier!"

"Yes, Mage, your own rapier. You can finally stop dropping not-so-subtle hints about it." Dylan's words didn't match the smile on his face. My glee was infectious, and I knew he was happy that his gift was well received.

I stopped dancing as a huge surge of gratitude welled up inside me. I advanced on Dylan, and his eyes widened as he realized what I intended. He tried to get away, but I was too quick. I grabbed his head and kissed him on both cheeks.

_Mwah! _"Thank you!" _Mwah! _"Thank you!"

"Ack!" Dylan freed himself and pushed me away. The others roared with laughter while he wiped his face furiously.. "Bad Mage! We've talked about this!"

I hummed a merry tune and went back to my seat. Hey, I didn't know that wasn't an American custom until I went to grade school. Some things just kinda stick with you.

"If you two are done making out," Phil said with a snort, "there's one more present to open."

I looked to Mike, who was holding a medium-sized box that looked heavier than the others. He nodded at the rapier before giving me the present. "This isn't quite as grandiose as Dylan's, but I know you'll still like it."

Still high on euphoria, I ripped through the paper to see what Mike had got me. Dylan and Phil both groaned as the gift was unveiled, but I let out a happy little exclamation: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, the Complete Box Collection on Blu-Ray.

I clapped my hands. "Awesome! Is this all the seasons?"

"Think so." Mike reached over and looked at the back of the box. "There were five, right?"

"Yep," I said. "Though I still can't believe how they ended it."

Did I mention I'm a brony? Yeah, I probably should've brought that up sooner. I got into the show in middle school, and the combination of animation, character development, plot, and over the top antics kept me hooked until the show finally ended. Speaking of the ending, boy did that come out of left field. Five seasons of friendship and happiness and love and they end it with Discord betraying everyone and making all the ponies disappear with some kind of curse? What the hell were the writers thinking?! I mean, sure, every story has to have an ending, but to have it go out on such a dark note? It sparked a lot of controversy with the fandom, but the writers were adamant that that was how the show was gonna go out, so there wasn't much that could be done. Everything leading up to the ending was good, though, so I wasn't about to throw out the entire franchise just because of one episode.

I'd also tried to get the guys into MLP several times, but my attempts were met with... less than desirable results.

"What I can't believe is how long you were into that show." Phil glared at the box like it was made of something vile. "It's bad enough you tried to get us to watch it, just think of what would've happened if the rest of the school had found out!"

"Better not let your family see that, either," Dylan said with a laugh. "They'll think you're a pedo."

I sighed at the unfortunate truth. "At least I live alone now. I don't have to worry about storing all my MLP swag in Shmangie's room anymore."

"How's she doing these days, by the way?" Mike asked.

I smiled. "Really well. She got promoted at her job, and now she's in charge of hiring employees for four states!"

Dylan whistled. "Go, Angie."

Angelina Juanita Raimundo, my darling older sister. Shmangie to me, Angie to everyone else. We were being silly one day and started putting the 'shm' sound on everything we were saying. Suddenly, our names were hysterical. She and I had always been close, and one of the biggest things we'd always shared was MLP. We used to get up early together to watch the latest episodes, and we'd have endless debates on everything from best episode to best pony. Shmangie was strong-willed, independent, generous to a fault, and always stood up for what she believed in. She reminded me of Rarity in a lot of ways, which coincidentally was also her favorite pony. She even tried to get into the fashion industry at one point, but gave up after she found out how expensive the schooling would be.

"I really wish you guys had given MLP a shot." I put the box set on the floor with the other gifts. "You really would've enjoyed it! We could've even gone to some of the conventions!"

There was a collective shudder from around the table. Dylan swept the wrapping paper together and crumpled it up into a ball. "No offense, Mage, but I think I speak for the three of us when I say it'll be a cold day in hell before we voluntarily have anything to do with your cartoon horses."

A sly smirk crept up on my face. "Voluntarily, eh? So you're saying I'll have to blackmail you? That can be arranged. I still have the video of the time you got drunk, put on one of your mom's dresses, and did the macarena out in the middle of the street."

Dylan went as white as the hilt of my new rapier. Mike and Phil failed to hold back their laughter as the memories of that particular night came back to them.

"You told me you got rid of that tape!" Dylan hissed.

I was going to tease him more, but he did just get me a freaking _sword, _so I figured that meant I had to be nice to him.

"Relax, dude," I said. "I'm just messing with you. I cracked the thing in half and burned it, _which I got in trouble for_, by the way, because the smell of burnt plastic tends to linger in enclosed areas!"

Dylan visibly relaxed. Sure, he liked to do crazy stunts, but he also had a reputation to uphold as a tough guy. We gave him grief about it at times, but we'd never intentionally do anything to make him look bad.

"Welp, Mage's done," Phil's eyes lit up. "That means it's my turn!"

"Yep," I tossed him my gift. "Go nuts."

The gift exchange lasted about twenty minutes. The others seemed to enjoy the respective computer parts I'd gotten them, but that was to be expected considering I'd flat out asked them what they wanted. I've never been a fan of trying to guess what other people want for presents, as there's always a chance that you got something they didn't like, or worse, got the right thing but it's the wrong brand or something. It's safer to ask the person exactly what they want, then go out and get it. Does it take out some of the fun? Yeah, but it's an acceptable sacrifice in my book.

We went back to the living room to eat the pizza and play video games, aka our fallback when we didn't have anything else to do. Yeah, it might seem boring, but back in school, if we weren't talking about what new releases were coming out, it was trying to get unstuck in a current game. Video games weren't all we did, of course. We all had our side interests, like me with ponies, but those weren't things that we enjoyed as a group. We did the things that all kids do, like go to movies, camping and skiing retreats, an occasional trip to an amusement park, yadda, yadda, yadda, but if it was a regular Friday night with nothing else going on, we'd load up junk food and caffeine, rent a few video games and play them all throughout the night. Things were pretty much the same now, except we had alcohol instead of caffeine.

I plopped down on the couch to watch Phil and Dylan play a cooperative game. I finished off my slice of pizza and made to reach for another, but some smartass had moved the pan over to the far end of the coffee table. I looked over at Mike, who was sitting next to me looking at the TV with a curious blank stare.

"Hey, Mike," I said. "Could you pass me another slice of pizza?"

Mike didn't reply. He just sat there with an unfocused look in his eyes.

I cocked my head. Was he out of it or something? Maybe he just didn't hear me.

"Mike, I want more pizza. Slide the pan back over here, please."

Still no reply. His mouth was hanging slightly open, and his breathing was slow and shallow. Dylan stopped playing the game and looked back at us.

Okay, now I was getting annoyed. I poked his shoulder and spoke in his ear. "Helloooo?! Earth to Mike! Anybody home?"

Mike jumped. He leaned away from me and shook his head clear.

"Wha? Oh, sorry, Sweetie. Guess I'm more tired than I thought."

I raised an eyebrow. _Sweetie?_ What the hell?! Sure, we were close, but we weren't _that _close. Damn, he really was tired if he was making Freudian slips like that.

"Did you just call him Sweetie?" Dylan looked between us with his lips slightly parted. "Is there something you two would like to tell us?"

Now, most people don't know this, but I have a hidden flair for dramatics. I was in the drama club for the majority of high school, and while I normally keep that side of my life on the down low, there are times when an opportunity is simply too good to pass up.

I put an arm around Mike and put my hand to my forehead. "Yes, Dylan! I admit it! Mike and I are secret lovers! Oh, you've no idea how hard it's been hiding our love away from the world, sneaking around to each other's homes in the dead of night, whispering sweet, passionate nothings in each other's ears when no one is looking! No longer! Today, with you and Phil as witness, I hereby announce our love to the heavens! May all who disapprove of our union be cast down onto the rocks! Come, Michael my dear, let us retreat to the bedroom and do wild, depraved things to one another!"

Dylan gave me a slow golf clap. Phil glanced at us out of the corner of his eye, then went back to the game. Mike, to his credit, didn't shy away or say a thing throughout my entire speech. As soon as it was done, though, he took a slice of pizza and smushed it in my face.

"Sometimes I wonder about you, Mage." He removed my arm and moved to the other side of the couch.

I let the pizza hang on my face for a few seconds before taking it off and licking my lips. "Hey, you asked for it."

"I _said _I was tired," Mike defended. "Was a long day at work today, and I have to get up early again tomorrow."

A large part of me wanted to scream at him that he wouldn't have to work so hard for crappy pay if he'd gone to college with me, but I wisely decided to keep quiet. It was no secret that I disapproved of all three of the guys' life choices, and I wasn't about to ruin the party by getting into a shouting match with them about it. Again.

"I'm actually pretty tired, myself," Dylan said with a yawn. "I spaced out for like five minutes in the grocery store today and pissed off a bunch of customers. Lucky my manager was on break, else I woulda got chewed out."

"Dylan!" Phil said. "We're in the middle of a game!"

"Ugh." Dylan pulled out a new cigarette and lit it up. "You guys are so impatient."

Phil and Dylan finished their game, then Mike pulled out a classic four player one that we all enjoyed. The hours flew by in a happy blur of playing and joking, and I soon found myself drinking more and more as the night went on. I normally don't drink, but hey, it was my birthday and I had nowhere else to be. Dylan joined me in the binge, but Mike and Phil abstained due to having to work the next day. The night whittled away, and I found myself content to just sit on the couch and enjoy the company of my friends in an alcohol-induced haze.

"Seven was the best game of the series hands down," Mike said flatly. "Great plot, great characters, amazing gameplay, and the graphics were ahead of its time. There is no discussion on this; your argument is invalid."

"Ohhhh, please." I found it impressive that the slur in Dylan's voice now was identical to the fake one he'd had when I arrived. I'm not sure what it says about him that he's able to mimic it so well. "Sheven had good graphics?! The charactersh had freakin' blocks for hands! I could make better modelsh if my own hands were blocks!"

"I'll take blocky models over piss-poor gameplay any day," Mike retorted. "You can stand on your soapbox and defend Nine all you want, but I'll never understand what you see in it."

Dylan finished his current beer and let out an impressive belch. "The pure aweshomeness that is Nine is beyond the capabilities of your shimple little mind to undershtand."

"You're both idiots," Phil said. "Six is the best one of them all."

"Shut up, Phil," Mike and Dylan both said at once. They looked at each other and laughed.

"Mage, be the tie-breaker here." Mike said to me. "Which game of the series is the best?"

It was times like this that I really missed. Sure, I'd made new friends in college and at work, but I'd never made the same kind of bond that I shared with these guys. Maybe it was because we'd known each other for so long, or it was the perfect mix of our personalities that made everything fit, but for whatever reason, something about the combination of the four of us just felt _right._ I always felt a strange kind of contentment when we were together, and it fervently made me wish that we hadn't drifted apart so much after high school. Wasn't like I could force them to come with me to college, though. They wanted to stay, I wanted to go, so that was the way things had to be.

"Mage?"

Why'd they have to stay? What was so appealing about this place that made them not want to leave it?! Okay, Mike had an excuse, seeing as his entire family were farmers and he wanted to help them out, but Phil and Dylan? I'd seen people that were dumber than both of them manage to scrape through with degrees! Was it the money? I mean sure, it was expensive, but the whole point of going to college is to get a job that pays well! Were they so short-sighted that they weren't able to see that?!

"Ohhh, check out his eyelids, they're totally drooping."

"Heh, he alwaysh was a shleepy drunk."

"Mike, lay him down on the couch. I don't want him faceplanting on the coffee table."

Was it me? Did I make a mistake in leaving? Was I supposed to stay in the area and work in retail for the rest of my life? I didn't want that! I wanted to make something of myself! I wanted to go out and broaden my horizons and meet new people! I wanted... to share my talents... with the world! I wanted... I wanted...

( *** )

_"Where are we going, Scootaloo?!" I yelled over the wind._

_"I don't know!" Scootaloo pumped her little wings even harder as she pulled the wagon filled with me and our fellow Cutie Mark Crusaders on her scooter. "Away!"_

_"You think we can outrun him?" I chanced a look back at the schoolhouse, and felt a chill as I didn't see a single one of my schoolmates running out of it._

_"Sure as hay gonna try!" Scootaloo replied through gritted teeth._

_"Wait!" Apple Bloom said. "You're goin' the wrong way! We need to find Applejack and the others! Take us to Sweet Apple Acres!"_

_Scootaloo started to veer west, but I quickly spoke up. "No! Rarity is closer! We should go to the Boutique first!"_

_"Make up your minds!" Scootaloo straightened out and continued the original direction we were going._

_"What was that thing back there?!" Babs said._

_"Discord." I spat out the word like it was a curse. "My sister and the others beat him a while back with the Elements, but then they let him go or something because he promised he'd be nice!"_

_Babs shivered. "Sure didn't seem very nice to me." _

_"Don't worry!" Apple Bloom patted her cousin's shoulder. "My sis and the others already beat him once, they can do it again! All we gotta do is_—_"_

_A polka-dotted brick wall appeared in the middle of the road._

_"AAAHHH!" Scootaloo swerved to avoid hitting the obstruction. She veered left and we went down an alleyway._

_"Where is he?!" I looked all around._

_"Dunno, but I don't wanna find out!" Scootaloo blasted out of the alleyway and into another empty street. Carousel Boutique was now in sight, only a hundred yards away. If we could just get a little farther..._

_A patchwork monstrosity teleported in front of us. His long, serpentine body had the head of a pony, the body of a snake, and the tail of dragon. His claws, hooves, wings and antlers were of various other animals, and his yellow, mismatched eyes glowed with malevolence. He looked down at us with a mad, victorious grin._

_"And just where do you think _you're _going?" Discord lazily snapped his fingers, and the wagon and scooter turned into popcorn. We all yelped as we were dumped unceremoniously onto the ground with a _crunch.

_"Hmph, kids these days!" Discord haughtily raised his chin. "Here I go to the trouble of making a surprise appearance at your school, and you four have the gall to run out on me?! For shame!"_

_"SCATTER!" I screamed. It wasn't what I wanted to do, but it's not like we stood a chance against him. Our only hope was to try and make him go after us one at a time. Maybe then one of us could get to the Element Bearers..._

_Apple Bloom ran to the left. Scootaloo went to the right. Babs ran down the street away from Discord, which meant I had no other choice. I took a deep breath and ran right at the monster, hoping against hope that I could run right between his legs._

_"Aww, how cute. Futile, but cute." Discord snapped his fingers again._

_My vision went completely dark. I skidded to a halt and rubbed my eyes, but I couldn't so much as see my hoof in front of my face. Cold dread crept up on me as I backpedaled away from where Discord had been._

_"W-What did you do?!" I squeaked. I looked all around, but there was nothing but endless black. My breath quickened as my hackles rose._

_There was a terrified scream to my left. I whirled around in a flash, but there was nopony there. Still, I'd heard the voice enough times to recognize its owner._

_"APPLE BLOOM!" I began running blindly in that direction. She sounded close. She couldn't be more than a dozen feet away from me. I flailed wildly in front of me to try and find her—_

_The scream was cut short. My stomach fell out, and I strained my ears to see if I could hear anything more, but there was nothing but the sound of my own ragged gasps._

_Another scream sounded to my right. It was farther away, but not far enough that I couldn't tell who it was._

_"SCOOTALOO!" I tried to run to her. I had no idea what I could do, or even what was happening, but I couldn't just sit by and let my best friends get attacked. If there was anything within my power to try and keep my friends from harm, I would do it._

_Scootaloo's scream was cut off as well. An emptiness suddenly struck me, and even though I couldn't see what'd happened, I knew that she was gone. My throat tightened as my heart hammered in my chest, and I made no effort to stem the tears that were streaming down my cheeks._

_A third scream sounded, this time directly behind me. My composure shattered into a million pieces and I started running straight ahead as fast as I could. Terror now had me in its iron grip, and my survival instincts were completely directing my actions. Rarity's home was straight ahead. Rarity's home was safety. Get to Rarity, and everything would be all right._

_Babs' scream ended much like Apple Bloom's and Scootaloo's had, but I didn't stop running. It was all I could do to keep from screaming myself. I heard nothing but the sounds of my own body. I felt nothing but the ground beneath my hooves. I saw—_

_My vision abruptly returned. Looming over me like the reaper was Discord. I hadn't moved so much as an inch during the whole time I was under his spell. Carousel Boutique was still a hundred yards away, but, it may as well have been a hundred miles. Despair took me, and I hung my head and fell to my haunches._

_"Ah, the sister of Generosity." Discord lifted me up in his magic and forced me to look into his horrifying eyes. "I do believe this is the first time we've met! Tell me, did you enjoy hearing your friends being picked off one by one? This is the first time I've done that, so I'm eager to get some feedback."_

_Rage flared up inside me. I wished I knew how to shoot one of those cool magical rays I saw Twilight use once. I wished I could command the Sun to shoot down a pillar of light and fry him where he stood. I wished I could grab one of his limbs and fling him around Ponyville like a rag doll. I used all the strength I had to try and break his magical grip. _

_I managed to wiggle my hooves._

_Discord laughed. "Not bad! Not bad at all! Then again, I'd be surprised if you _didn't _have some resistance to my magic, you being a direct blood relative to an Element Bearer, and all. Unfortunately, that resistance is why you have to go, Sweetie Belle. I can't have you swearing vengeance on me and trying to form a rebellion when you're older."_

_I didn't know what he was talking about, and I didn't care. My friends were gone. I'd failed to warn my sister. I was powerless to even save myself. I'd no idea what Discord was going to do me, but if the sadistic look in his eyes was any indication, it wasn't going to be pleasant._

_Discord flashed me a cruel grin. "If it's any consolation, I've nothing personal against you. I'm simply doing this to cover my bases... oh, and to hurt your sister. Can't forget that."_

_Rarity. I wasn't even going to get a chance to say goodbye. When was the last time I'd said I loved her? The last conversation we'd had was about me starting magic lessons. I could only hope that she knew how much I—_

_The door to Carousel Boutique opened. Rarity stepped out with a confused look on her face. She looked around, then glanced down the street. She froze as she saw Discord, then her eyes drifted down to me. She saw the desperation in my eyes, and her confusion morphed into abject horror. She raced towards us as fast as she could._

_Discord placed me in his lion's paw. He raised his eagle's claw, which was now glowing with purple light. _

_"Brace yourself, my dear," he said. "If the screams of everyone else I've done this to are any indication, this is going to hurt. A lot."_

_Discord had his back turned. Rarity was halfway to us. Murder was in her eyes as a diamond the size of my hoof with honed edges appeared in her magic. It glowed ominously with sapphire light._

_Discord tapped my nose with his eagle's claw, and I let out a raw shriek of pain. White hot agony lanced through my head that spread throught my entire body. My limbs tried to seize up, but Discord's magic kept me still. I felt myself shrinking, compacting, contorting, transforming. My mind turned to mush as his spell took hold._

_Discord cackled and recited a chant in a powerful voice._

_ For Five Score! Divided by Four!_

_ Your memories removed, your body confused!_

_ For your insolence you must pay,_

_ Cast off to a land far far away!_

_ To scatter the six, just the start of my tricks!_

_ Your mind shall be weak, your outlooks all bleak!_

_ Forget everything and live like a fool,_

_ You've lost, ponies! None can stop—_

_There was a tinging sound as Rarity fired the diamond missile. It shot forth like a bullet, and went straight through Discord's head with a meaty _splurch. _He and I both fell to the ground in a spray of gore, and the last thing I heard was Rarity yelling my name before everything went dark._

( *** )

I woke up with a mouth drier than a desert and a head full of pain. I immediately flinched and shut my eyes to block out the evil scareball's light that was shining in through the windows. I covered my face with a pillow, and took a moment to get my bearings.

Phil's house. Birthday party. Presents. Video games. Drinking. Oh Celestia, drinking. Current issue: Light sensitivity, dehydration, headache the size of New Jersey. Shivering. Cold sweat. Tears? Diagnosis: Nightmare, followed by severe hangover. Recommended course of action: Ingest of copious amounts of water to alleviate symptoms. Proceed to bathroom for bodily maintenance.

I groaned and gingerly opened my eyes. The room wasn't spinning, that was a good sign. I took a chance and slowly got to my feet. No signs of nausea, good! I might actually be able to do this.

I wiped the tears away and looked around the living room. A glance at the clock told me it was almost ten, which meant Mike was at work and Phil should be getting home soon. I didn't know where Dylan was. Probably passed out in Phil's spare bedroom. I'll ask him what happened last night later.

I entered the bathroom and spent the next ten minutes drinking water and addressing bodily functions. My headache gradually began to lessen, and I took a moment to think about the dream I'd had.

Damn, that was surreal. Normally you don't get any feedback from your senses in dreams, but in this one I'd felt everything, including all the bodily reactions to fear. Was this one of those night terrors I'd heard about? I thought only little kids got those! Should I tell someone about this?

I considered it for a moment, but decided that a single dream wasn't enough cause for worry. If it became a recurring thing, then I might need to take some action. It was probably just a bunch of random thoughts and memories that formed together in one big terrifying conglomeration. I'd get over it, and soon I wouldn't even remember I'd had the dream at all.

I took a look at myself in the mirror and cringed. I _definitely _needed a shower. I grabbed a spare towel from Phil's linen closet and started to strip off my clothes.

Now, I say 'started,' because I never actually finished. I got my pants and boxers off, and when I glanced at my reflection in the mirror again, I saw something that made me stop in my tracks.

Sweetie Belle's cutie mark, a silver bell with a pink heart behind it, was stamped upon my thigh.


	2. Tattoos and Tempers

Chapter 2:

Tattoos and Tempers

I stood there for a minute just staring at the cutie mark. It was vividly colored, the artwork exact down to the very last detail. No blurred colors or lines, no reddened skin, and it wasn't tender at all when I poked it. The pink heart was stylized like the G3 one, with the silver bell hanging on a curled metal wire. I checked my other thigh, and sure enough, the exact same mark was there, too.

My first reaction was shock, of course. You always think it's funny when you see people getting drunk and waking up with tattoos in movies, but to actually have it happen to you? Not so much. I didn't appreciate that the guys had let me go and get a tattoo when I was blasted, and to make matters worse, my inebriated mind had decided that the cutie mark of _Sweetie Belle_ was a good choice? What the hell, brain, what the hell.

I took a washcloth and scrubbed at the mark. I didn't really expect it to work, but I wanted to be thorough in what I tried. I'd feel pretty stupid if I started panicking and it turned out it was just a slap-on tattoo you could get at the fair or something. Scrubbing at it didn't work, though, so I put the washcloth away and just stared at it some more, as if I could just will the things to disappear.

Nope, still there.

Crap.

I wanted answers on how this happened. I wanted to know why the guys didn't stop me. I wanted some freaking aspirin for this stupid hangover. Most of all, though, I wanted that shower. I had every intention to ream out my friends, but I wasn't going to do it while smelling like a hobo. Yes, clean up first, angry rant second.

I stepped out of the bathroom a half hour later with my towel slung over my shoulder. The shower had rejuvenated me, and the warm water had calmed my temper and cleared my mind. A semblance of rational thought returned to me, and I realized that seeing as these tattoos didn't hurt at all and there was no sign of irritation around them, they couldn't have been done with a needle. They had to be some kind of special prank tattoos, which was exactly the kind of stupid crap Dylan invested in. All I had to do was get him to tell me how to remove the things, and everything would be fine.

I found Dylan sprawled out on the twin bed in Phil's spare bedroom. He hadn't even bothered to pull the blankets over himself, and the pillow was wet from the copious amount of drool seeping out of his mouth. I poked him in the small of the back.

"Hey, Dylan. Wake up."

Dylan mumbled something unintelligible. He covered his head and curled up into the fetal position.

A smile tugged at my lips. It seemed that I wasn't the only one who drank too much last night. I normally might've let him sleep, but I wasn't in a gracious mood.

"Dylan!" I swatted him with my towel. "Get up! The prank's over!"

"Keep your voice dowwwwwn." Dylan's voice was feeble and scratchy. He cracked open a bloodshot eye and stared blearily at me. "What are you on about?"

I lowered my voice to an icy whisper. "The little surprise you left me on my thighs last night, funny boy. Tell me how to get them off."

"I wouldn't touch your thighs if you paid me," Dylan said as he gingerly sat up. "Well, mayyyyybe I would, but I warn you, I'm not a cheap date."

"Cut the act, dude!" I pulled down the side of my pants to show him the cutie mark. "I know you did this!"

Dylan's eyes went wide. "Holy... is that a tattoo?!" He leaned in closer to get a better look. "When'd you—ugh, really? A pink heart and a bell? That's like, the girliest thing you could possibly get."

A sliver of doubt wormed its way into my mind. Being friends with a person for a long time means that you pick up on the things they _mean,_ and not just the things they say. Dylan seemed genuinely surprised by this, and he'd never been a good actor even when he didn't have a hangover. I watched him carefully as he squinted at the cutie mark, then looked up at me in bewilderment.

"When did you get this?"

I didn't reply at first. I pulled up my pants, then sat down on the bed and looked Dylan in the eye.

"Be straight with me. What happened last night?"

Of course, Dylan could read me the same way. I was rattled about this, and while I was doing my best not to show it, the subtle tremor in my voice and tensed posture may as well have been flashing neon signs to him.

Dylan cleared his throat and scratched his head. "I don't really remember much. You fell asleep a little before midnight from drinking too much. Mike laid you down on the couch, and we played games until Phil had to go to work. Mike turned in after that, and I think I watched a movie or something before I came in here and crashed."

I sucked on my teeth. That certainly sounded normal, but it didn't account for a pair of tattoos suddenly appearing on my body. There had to be something more.

Dylan shifted uncomfortably on the bed. "Um, not to interrupt your impending freak out or anything, but can you gimme a sec? I _really_ gotta pee."

I sighed and dismissed him with a wave of my hand. He got up and bolted out of the room in a flash. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples as I heard the bathroom door slam. My headache had migrated to rest just behind my eyes, and I was starting to feel nauseous. I had to focus right now, though, so I did my best to ignore it. The last time I saw my lower body was when I'd taken a shower the previous day. During that time I'd gone to work, come straight here, and hung out with the guys all night. The only unaccounted for time period was when I was sleeping on the couch, which meant that I'd had to have gotten the tattoos then. If Dylan didn't have anything to do with it, then it had to have been either Phil or Mike, and—

"AAAHHH!"

I opened my eyes. That had definitely come from Dylan. What the heck did he do, drop the toilet seat on his junk or something? I was about to get up and go check on him when I heard the bathroom door open. He walked back into the room, and before I could even open my mouth, he turned and pulled down the side of his jeans.

On his thigh was Scootaloo's cutie mark: a pink and orange butterfly. Wait, scratch that, it was a hornet. No, wait, butterfly! Hornet! Butterfly! Hornet! Argh! It was hard to tell because it was so stylized! The fandom had had endless debates on what Scootaloo's cutie mark was, and there were arguments for and against both parties. The G3 Scootaloo had a butterfly cutie mark, that much was certain, but the G4 version had curled antennae, a stinger, and gave off the impression of speed. Whoever did this tattoo must've been a diehard fan, because even I couldn't tell what it was supposed to be.

"I've got the same thing on the other thigh." Dylan pulled up his pants and gave me a level stare. "Neither of them were there yesterday."

I clucked my tongue. "T'would appear we've been bamboozled."

"By who, though?" Dylan leaned up against the wall. "Mike went to bed before me, and Phil had already gone to work. There's no one else that could've done it."

"Maybe it was some kind of delayed thing?" I knew I was grasping at straws, but I didn't know what else to think. "You know more about practical joke stuff than I do. Is there a kind of ink that doesn't show up for a few hours?"

Dylan chewed on his lip. "Yeah, but you still need to apply it directly to the skin. I'm pretty sure I would've felt someone putting something on me throughout the day yesterday, and I know you would have too."

"Which means it had to have happened when we were both asleep," I said. "And Phil was already gone at work, so..."

"It had to have been Mike," Dylan finished for me. "He pretended to go to bed, waited until I came in here, then inked us both. Damn, I'm actually kinda impressed."

I tapped my right thigh."What impresses me more is that he managed to get his hands on Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo tattoos. Not sure why he'd waste something MLP-related on you, but maybe they were on sale or something."

"Wait, this isa pony thing?!" Dylan groaned. "Ugh, I take it back, I'm not impressed anymore."

I snickered. Truth be told, now that the initial shock had worn off my biggest gripe was that Mike hadn't run this by me before doing it. If he'd just given me the tattoos, I would've had some fun with them. Now I'd have to go and buy my own, but maybe I could ask him what website he got them from.

Dylan reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. "Alright, now that we've established the culprit, how do we get back at him?"

I smirked evilly. "We could—"

Our diabolical plans were interrupted by the loud slam of the front door, followed by the angry roar of a beast called Phil.

"DYLAN! I'M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS!"

I felt my stomach tighten. I looked over at Dylan, who didn't seem perturbed in the slightest. He lit his cigarette and took a long drag, then walked out the door. I followed suit, hoping that I could diffuse whatever issue had come between them.

Phil stomped up the stairs and turned to see us standing in the hallway. He zoned in on Dylan and put his hands on his hips. "What made you think giving me a tattoo in permanent marker was a good idea, huh?! Do you have any idea how hard it is to get off?! I was trying all night and I couldn't even make the colors bleed!"

Dylan stiffened, and I gasped through clenched teeth. We both exchanged a glance before I spoke up.

"Uh, Phil, where exactly is this tattoo?"

Phil turned to his side and pulled down his pants. There on his thigh was Babs Seed's cutie mark: a bisected apple with three seeds, two brown, one white. The skin around the marks was red and irritated, but that made sense if he'd been trying to wash them off.

"This is probably the most random thing you've ever done." Phil pulled his pants back up and glared at Dylan. "I don't even _want _to know why you thought it was a good idea to break into my house, but I—"

Phil's tirade was ended prematurely by Dylan and I both showing him the colorful additions to our own bodies. His posture slackened and his mouth went agape.

"Buh?"

I couldn't help but laugh a little, though it was partially due to relief that there wasn't about to be an argument. The less shouting that happened right now, the faster my headache would go away.

"We think it was Mike," Dylan said. "Well, it _had _to have been him, seeing as we both got ours when we were sleeping. When'd you notice yours?"

"Around three." Phil went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of apple juice. "I figured you'd snuck in here while I was sleeping yesterday afternoon and put it on me then. Guess that theory's out the window."

"Not necessarily," I said. Dylan shot me a questioning look, but I held up a hand. "It's possible Mike did exactly that. What time did he get here yesterday?"

Phil downed his glass and wiped his mouth. "Not long after I woke up, actually. I didn't even hear his car pull in."

"Does he have a key?" I asked.

Phil hesitated, then slowly lowered his head into a facepalm. "Yeah, he does."

"There ya go." I stroked a non-existent goatee. "Our little mystery has been solved."

Phil rubbed the back of his head and smiled apologetically at Dylan. "My bad."

"You can apologize by giving me some of that juice." Dylan licked his lips. "I'm freaking parched."

I took assessment of the situation while Phil got Dylan another glass. This was quite the scheme Mike had pulled, and it certainly had caught us all off-guard. I couldn't really blame Phil for assuming that Dylan had done it, seeing as that'd been my first thought, too. It was going to take something big to top this, but between the three of us, I figured we could come up with something good.

I looked over at Phil. "Dylan and I were just about to start coming up with ideas on how we can get back at Mike. Anything come to mind?"

Phil shook his head. "He's just gonna try and top it if we retaliate. All I wanna know is how to get these things off and be done with it."

"Aww, but that's no fun!" Dylan finished off his glass and jutted out his lower lip. "Mike went through all the trouble of buying these tattoos, then sneaking around and carefully putting them on us! That had to have been a lot of work! We owe it to him to get him back!"

I raised an eyebrow. "That would be what we call 'twisted logic.'"

"No, it's Dylan logic!" He stopped to think about that a second, then shrugged and put out his cigarette. "So yeah, basically the same thing."

There was a jingling of keys as Phil swept his off of the counter. I looked over at him, and he jerked his head towards the door. "Mike never answers his phone while he's at work. I wanna know how to get these off before I go to bed, so I'm gonna go to Spades now."

Spades was the local casino where Mike worked part-time as a valet. The rest of his time was dedicated to working for his family doing things like woodcutting, gardening, planting, harvesting, feeding animals, or whatever else they needed him to do. His hope was that he'd be able to scrape enough money together to get a farm of his own someday, but good land wasn't cheap, and his family couldn't afford to give him any. I'd warned him he was gonna be in for a hard time if he followed this path, but he'd insisted it was what he wanted to do.

"I guess I'll come with you." I looked over at Dylan. "Coming?"

Dylan mulled it over. He poured himself one more glass of juice, downed it, then slammed the glass down on the table with a grunt. "Exposure to lots of colors and noise with a hangover?! Why not! Hard mode, engage!"

I cringed. "Urgh, I hadn't thought about that. This is gonna be interesting."

"I think he's working hotel side today." Phil said as he opened the door. "There isn't much noise there."

We made our way outside and over to Phil's car. There was a brief dispute over who got shotgun, but a game of rock-paper-scissors left me sitting in the backseat. As we went on our way, I noticed both Dylan and Phil had let their hair grow out. It was halfway down their necks, which may not seem like much, but it was the longest I'd ever seen them have it. Phil's hair was combed straight like usual, but Dylan's was a disheveled mess. Their hair also seemed fuller somehow, maybe shinier? I figured it was probably just a new shampoo they were using.

I found my thoughts turning back to the dream I'd had. I was surprised I still remembered most of it, as I usually only remember vague flashes from my dreams. It certainly wasn't anything like the show, well, maybe a little like the series finale, but I wouldn't consider that a good thing. Discord had said something about the siblings of the Element Bearers being a possible threat to him, which made sense, in a way. It was never explained what made each Bearer so perfect for their respective Elements, but I'd always thought it was a combination of genetics, culture, location, and upbringing. If this was true, then the siblings of the Bearers probably had some kind of connection, magic, or hidden power that they could tap into. It probably wasn't enough to wield the Elements, but it might be enough to cause problems for Discord.

"Are you humming back there, Mage?"

Phil's voice snapped me out of my musings. I turned away from the window and saw his eyes focused on me in the rear view. "Huh? Oh, yeah. You know how much I like the sound of my own voice."

Phil snorted. "Remind me why you dropped out of choir again?"

I let out a bitter laugh. "Same reason Dylan dropped out of track, I imagine. The teacher was a jerk."

"Objection!" Dylan raised his left hand in the air. "He and I were _both _jerks. He told me I didn't have the stamina to do the four hundred meter dash, and I told him to go perform illicit activities with his mother."

The statement caused something to click in my mind. "So _that's _why you had to scrape gum off the school bleachers every day after school for a week! I always wondered about that."

"You shouldn't have quit, Mage," Phil said before I could get off topic. "You've always had a good singing voice, and I remember you really enjoyed it in middle school."

I felt a pang of guilt. There was a story there that I'd never told the guys about. I still didn't want to tell them, but I knew Phil wasn't gonna let it go. I let out a heavy sigh and tried to keep my voice neutral.

"I did, but I don't appreciate being passed over for solos because my parents aren't on the school board."

When a guy whose voice sounds like a dying cat is given a solo not once, not twice, but _three consecutive times_, you know something fishy's going on. My complaints fell on deaf ears, as did everyone else's, so there was nothing anyone could do. I suppose I could've gone higher and told the district or something, but then I would've been 'that guy' who raised a huge fuss that started an investigation or something.

"Say what?!" Dylan turned around to look at me. "You never told us about that!"

I avoided his gaze and looked down at my hands. I didn't want to make a big deal out of it. I didn't know how deep the corruption ran, and it was hard juggling drama performances, choir concerts and fencing lessons. I wanted to have an open period so I could have a study hall, so I decided it was best to just wash my hands of the whole thing and move on.

"Why didn't you say anything?" Phil asked.

It was a really sore spot for me. Yes, I loved singing, yes, I was good at it, and yes, there was a time when I'd seriously thought about making it into a career, but the choir experience had seriously jaded my outlook for the future. If favoritism and bribery were already happening at the high school level, I couldn't imagine what it was like higher up. Better to recognize the problem and get out early before I either found myself stuck or just as dirty as the rest of them.

"I'd rather not talk about it," I said in a faint voice.

I expected Phil and Dylan to needle me or give me some kind of guilt trip, but it never came. The awkward silence caught me by surprise, and I looked up to see that both of them had honored my wish. Dylan had turned back around, and Phil had switched on the radio. I almost said something more, but my pride kept my tongue at bay, so I was forced to sleep in the bed I'd made. I put my head against the window and went into a light doze.

( *** )

I've never liked casinos. They're loud, they're expensive, the cigarette smoke hangs in the air like a cancerous fog, and most of all, the games are utterly boring. I can see why a lot of people are into them, but when you play video games that have you slaying eldritch monsters with mystical godlike powers on a regular basis, making a bunch of shapes line up together just doesn't do it for you.

The casino was a massive complex that, on top of having several game floors, also housed a convention center, an arcade, a bowling alley, several restaurants and venues, and other attractions just waiting to suck in the average hapless tourist. One might think that finding Mike would be difficult in such a huge place, but we'd all been here several times before, and even if we hadn't, all we'd need to do was flag down an employee, point to Phil and say, 'family.'

We pulled into the parking lot and went around to the hotel side. Dylan remarked that it'd be funny if we got Mike to park the car for us, and while I agreed, Phil pointed out that wasn't what we were here for. We skimped out on the shenanigans and just went straight to the valet desk. We asked for Mike, and he came walking out a minute later with a look of pleasant surprise.

Huh, Mike was letting his hair grow out, too. Was there a fashion trend I'd missed out on, or something?

"Hey, guys!" He smiled at us. "Here to do some gambling? I..."

His voice died when he saw our folded arms and unamused stares. Phil wasted no time in cutting to the chase.

"Very funny. Now tell us how to get them off."

Mike cocked his head. "Get what off?"

"Don't play dumb," Phil snapped. "We know it was you."

"You've really gotta learn how to cover your tracks," Dylan said.

Mike's lips parted and he squinted one of his eyes. "What are you guys talking about?"

I brushed my hair out of my face. "You were the only one in the house last night after Dylan and I went to bed, and you have a key to Phil's place. There's no one else it could've been, so just admit it already."

Mike spoke in a calm tone. "You guys aren't making any sense. If you're going to accuse me of something, you need to tell me what it is so I can explain myself. Coming in here and getting in my face about whatever you think I did isn't going to solve anything."

Remember when I said Mike's the most laid back guy you'll ever meet? This is what I meant. There we were being snippy and not answering his questions, and he still kept a cool head about it. I'd never seen him become legitimately angry about anything in the entire time I'd known him, and he'd always been our rock in situations like this. Seeing him hold to that re-voiced the thought that pulling a prank like this was completely unlike him, and a new suspicion wormed its way into my mind. I needed somewhere to confirm it, though. I looked around, and saw that there was a men's room to our left.

"We'll do better than tell you," I said. "Follow me."

I walked inside the bathroom and was grateful to discover that it was currently empty. I waited until the guys came in, then turned to my side and revealed my cutie mark.

"Did you do this?" I asked Mike calmly.

Mike blinked several times. He stared at it for a few seconds, then smacked his lips and gave a simple, decisive response.

"Nope."

I gave Dylan a meaningful look. He got the hint and showed Mike his cutie mark.

"What about this?" I said.

Mike exhaled out his nose and rubbed his upper lip. "Nuh-uh."

I gestured to Phil, who readily obliged.

"And this?"

Mike let out a low whistle. "All three of you? Damn, when'd you—wait, 'tell us how to get them off?' Oh, no, no, no. I didn't have anything to do with this. What makes you think I did?"

"Hold on to that," I said quickly before Phil or Dylan could cut in. "I've one more question. Did you take a shower this morning?"

Mike bit his lip. "I didn't, actually. I overslept and just barely made it to work on time as it was."

I took a deep breath and made a vague circling gesture at my groin. "When was the last time you checked this area of yourself?"

Mike raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Yesterday, I think? Definitely when I took a shower at home, so probably around twenty four hours."

I pointed to one of the stalls. "You might want to now."

Mike looked between the three of us. Dylan was intrigued, Phil was wary, and I was wearing a poker face until I saw what he did. Mike's a pretty cooperative guy, so if he refused my request it almost certainly meant he was trying to hide something. If he obliged, then it probably meant he was just as confused as we were.

Mike went into the stall and closed the door behind him. There was the sound of a zipper being pulled down, the shuffling of clothes, followed by a sharp gasp. The stall door opened, and Mike was in his boxers while turned to the side. On his thigh was what I'd already suspected: Apple Bloom's cutie mark, a pink apple blossom with six petals and bright yellow stigma.

I facepalmed. "_Que carajo..._"

"Wait, Mike's got one, too?!" Dylan laughed. "Oh, man! This keeps getting better and better!"

"You've no idea." Phil was facing the bathroom mirror. "Look."

I turned, and found that my friends weren't the only ones in need of a haircut. My normally short, straight brown hair had grown into a soft, thick mullet with wavy curls. I ran a hand through it, and felt a sudden urge to twirl a lock of it through my fingers.

"Whoa!" Dylan dashed to the mirror. "Who slipped us the hair growth formula?!"

"There's no such thing," I said immediately. Though I wasn't so sure about that anymore.

Phil tugged at his hair as if it were a wig. "How else did our hair get like this? It's not like hair suddenly gets this long overnight for no reason!"

Dylan suddenly stopped looking in the mirror and slowly turned to me. "Hey, Mage? Are Phil and Mike's tattoos from ponies, too?"

I nodded. "Babs Seed and Apple Bloom. Together, we're all sporting the marks of the Cutie Mark Crusaders."

"Wait, _what?!_" Phil rounded on me. "You're saying you know what these things are?!"

I absentmindedly kept twirling my fingers through my hair. It was oddly soothing for some reason. "What they are? Yes. How we got them? No. I'm just as lost as you are on that front."

"Oh, really?" Dylan crossed his arms. "I find that hard to believe. You were the first one to notice these things, after all."

"When would I have time to do this?" I sat down on the bathroom counter, which I immediately regretted as a puddle of water seeped into my pants. "I fell asleep last night before all of you, and I was out cold for the entire night!"

Phil narrowed his eyes. "Do you have any way to confirm that?"

I felt my temper rise, but I kept it in check. Yes, Phil was being a jerk, but he only was like this when he'd been awake for too long or when hadn't eaten in over twelve hours. I knew this because we went to one of those lock-ins where you don't eat the whole time, and he was an absolute nightmare by the end of it. My guess was that he was suffering from the effects of having his sleep schedule flip-flopped so often, so I was willing to cut him some slack.

I got off the counter, straightened to my full height, and looked Phil dead in the eye. "No, I don't, but what I do have is this: I, Magellan Guillermo Raimundo, son of Alejandro Martin Raimundo, your childhood friend and fellow member of MMPD, give you my word that I did not have anything to do with these pranks in any way, shape, or form. It's true that I know that these marks are from My Little Pony, but that's all I know. I'm sorry that I can't tell you more."

Phil's eyes softened and his posture visibly relaxed. He nodded once at me, then looked away and rubbed the bridge of his nose. I now saw there were dark bags under his eyes. How long had he been living like this? It couldn't have been healthy, but graveyard shifts do tend to have higher pay, and he did have a house payment to worry about...

Dylan smirked. "Do you also give us your word as a Spaniard?"

I turned to him and tried to hide my grin. "It depends. How many Spaniards have you known?"

"Eh, not very many." Dylan winked at me. "Though there was this one guy who was looking for someone with six—"

"Focus, children." Mike went to the sink and washed his hands. "I believe you, Mage, but you have to admit this is pretty weird. The four of us get the tattoos of characters from a show that only you watch on the same day you come to visit us? Who else could've done it?"

I threw up my arms. "Communists, aliens, Atlanteans, mormons, tattoo gnomes, democrats, the Chicago Bulls, Lauren Faust, penguins, Batman... all I can guess is that it was probably the same person who messed with our hair. I'm a business analyst, not a detective."

"You gotta watch out for those tattoo gnomes, man," Dylan said with utmost seriousness. "They have teeth like knives and they swarm you like piranha. They can fully ink a man in nine point-three seconds, and the only thing that keeps them away is a dreamcatcher strung with year-old shoelaces coated in whale snot."

Mike ignored him and dried off his hands. "I have to get back to work. I'll head over to Phil's after I get off to help you guys figure this out. When are you going back to the city, Mage?"

"Sunday night," It was currently late Saturday morning, so we had a day and a half to figure this out. I figured I might as well stay at Phil's house if we were gonna convene there anyway... assuming he still let me, that is.

I turned to Phil and folded hands behind my back. "Is it okay if I'm at your house until then?"

A hurt look flashed across his face. "What? Why would you even ask that? You know you're always welcome!"

Yes, I did, but manners dictated that I ask all the same. We'd just had a disagreement, and so I felt it proper to observe formalities as a gesture of humility. It looked like Phil had misinterpreted my intentions, though.

"I'll stick around, too," Dylan said. "We can catch up while Phil catches some z's."

I nodded and blew a lock of hair out of my eyes. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Phil yawned and gestured to the exit. "Let's go."


	3. Secrets and Semantics

Chapter 3:

Secrets and Semantics

The trip back to Phil's was uneventful. We exchanged information on what we'd been doing for the past week, but nothing stuck out. My daily activities made for boring conversation, Phil's weren't much better, and Dylan took up the rest of the time telling us how a guy in the meat department had cut off the tip of his finger. It was entertaining, but didn't help us much.

We got out of the car and traipsed into Phil's house single file. I slumped down on the living room couch, Dylan went into the bathroom to go hunt for some aspirin, and Phil gave us permission to raid the fridge before retreating to his room for some much needed rest.

I looked up at the ceiling and felt my shoulder-length hair brush against the back of my neck. I held out a strand, and judged it to be around six inches long. I'd never heard of anything that accelerated hair growth, and I didn't think anything like that would even be scientifically possible. Shouldn't something like that have been a major scientific breakthrough that made national news? I mean we were talking about a cure for a baldness, here! And how did our unknown prankster get a hold of it? Was he or she using it on random people that they found on the streets, and... also putting My Little Pony tattoos on them... okay, that was just dumb.

I sank deeper into the couch and looked around the living room. A dark gray recliner and loveseat sat next to the couch on opposite sides. A worn coffee table with countless cup rings on it was in the center of the room. The plain, white walls were filled with framed posters and pictures, each of them boasting some kind of significance in Phil's life. No less than six of the pictures were of MMPD. The springy carpet was a dull brown, and a large flat screen TV and Blu-Ray player were fastened to the wall. The room had a faint smell cigarettes and was pleasantly warm, which was a welcoming contrast to the chilly outside.

I let out my breath in a long, contented sigh. I found myself filled with a sense of ease that I never got back at my apartment in the city, which just was another reason why I wished so badly that the guys had come with me to college. I doubted I'd ever fully get over it, as my leaving had meant we were now missing out each other's lives, and thereby slowly drifting apart. As life went on, we'd probably see each other less and less, until finally, we wouldn't see each other at all.

I felt my eyes burning, but I wasn't sure why. Was it because I mourned the impending death of our friendship? Was it because I realized just how lonely I was? Or was it because I knew something about all this was inherently _wrong, _but I couldn't put my finger on what it was?

Dylan came back into the living room and found me staring blankly off into space. He started to say something, but stopped when I let out a quiet sniffle. He immediately came over and sat down beside me.

"Hey." He put a hand on my shoulder. "You all right?"

I closed my eyes and looked away. "I just wish I knew what was going on."

Dylan reached up and lightly flicked my ear. "Dork. Stop dodging the question. Tell me what's wrong."

I pursed my lips. "It's nothing."

Dylan lowered his chin. "Shall I go through Phil's music collection and put on some emo music for you? Maybe later we can go shopping for spiked jewelry, dye our hair black and write depressing poetry at a hipster cafe! That sound like fun?"

I gritted my teeth and turned my back to him. "Does everything have to be a joke with you?!"

"Does everything have to be a soap opera with you?" Dylan leaned in and spoke in a clear, concise tone. "I don't know what's with this 'lone wolf' act you're pulling all of a sudden, but seriously? _Knock it the hell off._ This isn't the big city where you always have to look out for number one. I'm one of the oldest friends you have, I actually give a shit about you, and you pushing me away is like saying the last fifteen years of friendship account for jack."

I ignored the heavy weight in my gut and stood my ground. "Did it ever occur to you I might have a reason for not wanting to talk about certain things with you or the others?"

"Oh, this oughta be good." Dylan put his arms behind the couch. "Tell me, Mage, what monumental, earth-breaking reason might you have for not confiding in me, _the godfather of your future kids?_"

He may as well have slapped me. We all wanted to have children someday, and we couldn't do the usual MMPD name thing because we'd agreed that Phil and Mike's kids would be better suited if they stayed within their family. Dylan wasn't the most serious at times, but he was great with kids, and I knew if anything happened to me, he'd step up and pick up the slack.

"That's... not fair," I managed.

"What isn't fair is you withdrawing into your shell and not letting me help you," Dylan shot back. "Keeping secrets is something we've never done, and there's no reason why we should start now. Why don't you trust me?"

I hung my head and twiddled my thumbs. "My concerns are just me being stupid, and I don't want you or the guys thinking I have doubts about things that I know really aren't going to come to pass."

A lopsided smirk crept up on Dylan's lips. "We're all stupid sometimes, my friend. It'd be a very different world if we were all perfect all the time. Start talking."

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I shook my head and tried again, but it was like there was a hand around my throat. I tried one more time, but it was no use. I couldn't talk with the Dylan about my fears of our friendship falling apart. He'd dismiss it as pointless, or worse, point the finger at me for being the one who left. I needed something to throw him off, and fortunately, I knew just the thing.

"I'm worried that these marks and our hair having some kind of connection with the show." My eyes were drawn up to his long, completely mussed-up hair. I'd have thought he'd try and do something about it while he was in the bathroom, but apparently he was content to leave it as is. "I mean, now that I think about it, the four of us do have a lot in common with the Cutie Mark Crusaders."

Dylan blew his bangs out of his face. "Cartoons are cartoons. Nothing more, nothing less. It's nothing to get upset about."

"You wouldn't say that if you'd seen the show," I insisted. "Take you, for example. Scootaloo is a pegasus who has trouble learning how to fly due to having stunted wings, and you had troubles walking when you were young because you were born with deformed hips."

Dylan rolled his eyes. "Nowhere near the same. My issue stemmed from a birth defect that the orphanage couldn't afford to fix. It would've been corrected right away if things had been… different."

You'd never know it unless he told you, but Dylan lived in an orphanage until he was four. His birth parents died in a car accident, and there weren't any other family members that could take him in. His adopted father was an orthopedist, and he'd fixed Dylan up before school started.

"That's another thing," I said. "Scootaloo was adopted, and she had this scooter she always rode around on, kinda like the one you used to have. She was always doing all these stunts and tricks—"

"I'm not the only orphan in the world, nor am I the only one that's expressed an interest in the superior means of transportation known as a 'scooter.'" Dylan waggled his eyebrows. "And I still have mine, thank you very much."

"There's more, though." I got up and started thinking up as many things as I could keep him distracted. "You're both brash with a devil-may-care attitude, you both have looked up to a local athlete that eventually went pro, you both have an image that you're greatly concerned with, you're both stubborn and prone to argument, especially with a certain other individual, you both—"

"Look." Dylan held out a hand to stop me. "You can draw as many similarities between me and this Scootaloo character all you want, but that doesn't change that she's a cartoon character in a show made for little girls, and I'm a real person. I can't believe I'm the one being the voice of reason here, but there's nothing going on here that can't be rationally explained!"

Of course I knew that, but I was having fun with this. Besides, I'd suddenly gotten an idea that not only would throw him off completely, it'd also kill some time.

"I wish I could show you what I'm talking about. Maybe then you'd—wait!" I went over to my pile of presents by the table and pulled out the box set of MLP that Mike had given me. I went back over and happily brandished it in front of Dylan. "I can!"

He gave me a flat look. "No."

I pushed the box a little closer. "Pleeeeease?"

Dylan crossed his arms. "Nuh-uh."

"Come onnnnnnn," I said in a sing-song voice.

"I'm not watching ponies!"

I put on my best puppy dog eyes, jutted out my lower lip, and said my most pathetic voice, "I thought you wanted to help me feel better."

A low blow, I know, but it was the only way this was gonna happen. I'd been trying for years to get the guys to watch the show. Dylan winced under the onslaught of begging, and finally, he groaned and swatted me away with a resigned look.

"All right, all right, but _only_ one. Not like there's anything else better to do right now, anyways."

With a victorious fist pump, I quickly opened up the box set and spread out the discs on the coffee table. Dylan got up and went to go pick out some snacks while I debated with myself on what episode to start with. It obviously needed to be a CMC episode, but which one? I briefly considered _Sisterhood Social,_ but I thought it best to start with the first one instead.

I put the Season One disc in, pulled up _Call of the Cutie,_ and waited for Dylan to come back from the kitchen. I heard various rustlings of plastic bags, followed by several beeps from the microwave. A few minutes later, he returned with a couple of sodas and a plate stacked high with nachos.

"Okay." He sat down and promptly stuffed his mouth with cheesy goodness. "Let'sh get thish over with."

"It's not that bad, I promise!" I pressed play.

_My Little Pony, My Little Pony,_

_ah, ah, ah, ah!_

_My Little Pony!_

_I used to wonder what friendship could be!_

Dylan stopped mid-chew. He closed his eyes and slowly lowered his head into a facepalm.

"I hate you so much, Mage."

Despite his negative reaction to the opening theme, Dylan became oddly quiet when the episode began in earnest. We watched the entire thing, and when the disc automatically went on to the next one, neither he nor I made any effort to stop it. We watched that one too, and the next one, and the next one, and before we knew it, we'd watched all the way to the end of the first season. I'd seen all the episodes before, of course, but I found myself sucked in just as much as Dylan, maybe even more so. I figured it was because I hadn't actually seen anything from Season One in a few years, and it was now all coming back to me.

I came back to my senses as the final credits rolled. The nachos and sodas were long gone, and neither of us had moved or looked at each other in hours.

"That... wasn't what I was expected," Dylan said from beside me.

My heart soared. I knew he'd like if he just gave it a chance! Maybe now that I'd convinced him the others might come around, too!

I looked over at him. "I'm gl—AAAAHHH!"

He jerked his head. "W—HOLY SHIT!"

We both jumped up and scrambled away from each other. Dylan's hair had grown even longer, and now stretched down to his shoulder blades. More alarming than that, though, was that the tips had turned a deep, vivid fuchsia. After taking in this change, I met his eyes and almost yelled again, for they'd changed as well to bright purple. A look of utter shock was etched on his face as he stared at me open-mouthed.

"Hair," he whispered.

"Eyes," I breathed.

The words clicked in our minds at the same time. We ran to the bathroom together and I turned on the light to behold my reflection.

Curls. Curls everywhere. My hair had been straight my entire life, and now I had flowing, wavy locks that ran all the way down my back. The last two inches of hair had changed color like Dylan's had, except mine was pink on my left side, and purple on my right. I stared dumbly for a few seconds, then reluctantly met my own eyes and gasped.

"Impossible..."

But apparently it wasn't. My eyes, once hazel, had now shifted completely over to green. Not just any green, though, _sea_ _green. _Pale and entrancing, they glowed with a soft, inner light that I found bizarrely alluring. I pulled down one of my eyelids and gingerly felt around for a pair of contacts, but there was nothing there.

"How?" Dylan was examining his own changes next to me. "We weren't like this when we sat down! It was just you and me alone in the living room! No one came in or out the entire time! HOW?!"

The panic in Dylan's voice gave rise to my own. Tattoos could be explained as a prank, hair changes could be rationalized as some kind of product, but _eyes? _Nothing outside of contacts could change that! Not only that, but from what little I remembered from my genetics class, the human eye could only generate certain colors due to only having a certain amount of possible dyes encoded in our genome, and while sea green was possible, purple was definitely not. Whatever had happened to Dylan's eyes defied what I understood about human DNA, and that shook me down to the very core.

"I don't think this was a prank," I murmured, half to myself, half to Dylan. My mind spun as I tried to come up with some sort of explanation, but before I could, Dylan grabbed me by the shirt and slammed me against the wall.

"Hey!" I grabbed his arms and tried to pull him away by reflex.

"Who's Discord?" Dylan hissed.

I froze. I looked into his changed eyes, which were wild with anger and fear.

"W-What?" I said.

"I had a nightmare about him last night!" Dylan's grip tightened on my shirt. "WHO IS HE?!"

My mouth went dry, and it was several seconds before I could find my voice. When I did, it was nothing more than a squeak.

"Y-You had that nightmare, too?"

A spasm flickered across Dylan's face. He was silent for a long time, but then he spoke in a voice that was tight and controlled.

"I was Scootaloo. The other Crusaders and I were running away from him after he tried to attack us in the schoolhouse. We got to the middle of Ponyville, then he cut us off and appeared in front of us. We tried to separate, but he cast a spell on me that trapped me up in the air. He then came up from behind, wrapped himself around me, chanted some weird poem, and touched my forehead with a glowing claw. I screamed until I couldn't scream anymore, then everything went dark."

I couldn't believe it. What were the odds that we'd both had the same nightmare on the same night? Not only that, but it sounded like his had been from Scootaloo's perspective?! I was completely speechless, but thankfully, my shell-shocked expression gave voice to my thoughts.

Dylan's anger vanished. "No, that's not possible." His grip went slack, and he backed into the hallway. "There's no way you could've had the same dream!"

I swallowed hard and tried to regain my composure. "M-Mine was from Sweetie Belle's perspective. It w-was the same as yours, except that D-Discord blinded me and made me listen as he picked off the other Crusaders one by one. He then taunted me before doing the same magic t-thing you described. Rarity saw it and tried to save me, but she didn't get there in time."

Dylan clutched his head and moaned. "What's happening to us?" He sank to the floor and hugged his knees. "I'd never even heard of Scootaloo before this, and now I'm having dreams about her?! This doesn't make any sense!"

My annoyance over her manhandling me dissipated upon seeing her in such a lost state. She always put up a strong front, and it was only when she was truly freaked did she lose it like this.

"There has to be an explanation," I said as I walked over and sat across from him. "Come on, this can't all be just a coincidence."

Dylan rested his head between his knees. "I'm beginning to think you were right about this having a connection with the show. Scootaloo and I do have a lot of things in common, and there are a lot of parallels between you and Sweetie Belle, as well as Mike and Apple Bloom! Watching the three of them together reminded me of the kinds of things we used to do together; the only difference being that they're female ponies, and we're male humans."

I bit the inside of my cheek. I'd never considered there might be similarities between myself Sweetie. I'd only brought that up to get Dylan off my case! Out of curiosity, I decided to see if I could think of the things Dylan was referring to, and to my surprise, I came up with more than a few.

"How do you change a person's eye and hair color without them feeling it, anyway?" Dylan stood up and held out a hand to me. "You'd have to use some kind of eye drops or something, and I've never used anything like that in my life!"

I took his hand. "It'd be easy for Discord to do. I've no idea how his magic works, but this definitely would be his style."

Dylan frowned upon hearing Discord's name. "Let's just say that this really is related to the show somehow. Who _is_ he? I didn't see him in any of the episodes we watched."

"Discord's the spirit of chaos and disharmony." I closed my eyes and delved into my knowledge of MLP lore. "Long ago, he ruled over Equestria and tormented all the ponies with his madness and mischief. Then, Celestia and Luna rose up against him and and used the Elements of Harmony to turn him into stone. He remained that way for thousands of years, but his seal weakened and he broke free to wreak havoc once more. The Mane Six were able to defeat him before he could do any permanent damage, but Celestia then decided that his powers could be useful if he could be convinced to use them for good. He was freed and then seemingly reformed by Fluttershy, but then, in the series finale, he left Celestia to die, attacked the Mane Six and banished them somehow, then took the throne and ruled over Equestria once more. That's how the series ended."

"_What?!_" Dylan did a double-take. "Twilight and the others lose? The series ends with the bad guy winning?!"

I put my hands in my pockets. "You have no idea how much nerdrage there was. Most people don't even accept it as canon. Last I heard, there were a few fan projects going to make a proper ending, although I don't know if they were ever finished."

"Damn right they need to make a proper ending!" Dylan reached out and smoothed out the wrinkles in my shirt. "Were the writers on acid when they wrote the script or something? Sorry about grabbing you, by the way."

"It's fine." I waved him away and leaned back against the wall. "I've no idea why the writers did what they did. The whole thing left a bad taste in my mouth, and it was the main reason why I stopped paying attention to the fandom."

Dylan's eyes were hollow as he stared into the bathroom. "The Cutie Mark Crusaders... Sweetie Belle, Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, and—there was a fourth, right? Babs, or something?"

I nodded. "Apple Bloom's cousin. She got introduced to the show in Season Three, then made cameos until her family moved to Ponyville in the beginning of Season Five."

"And Mike and Phil, cousins as well, have their respective cutie marks." Dylan ran a hand through his hair. "I don't like this, Mage. There are too many similarities for this to be a coincidence."

I scratched my chin. I admitted I didn't like it either, but I wasn't about to abandon rational thought and go off into the realm of insanity just yet.

"Maybe this is some kind of publicity stunt?" I offered. "Like for one of those shows where they do things to people just to gauge their reactions?"

Dylan pressed his lips into a flat line. "A My Little Pony-related publicity stunt involving a group of guys who live in the middle of nowhere, three of which aren't even fans of the show?"

I couldn't help but snicker. That one had sounded a lot better in my head. I started trying to think of something else, but I knew I was grasping at straws as it was. I decided to roll with the pony theory until something else presented itself. We'd need more data to support it, though, and fortunately, I knew just where to get it.

"We need to talk to Apple Bloom and Babs," I said. "Two people having the same dream on the same night is plausible. Exceedingly rare, but still plausible. Four people, on the other hand..."

"Yeah." Dylan rolled his shoulders. "Let's see if they had the dream. Can we wait until Babs wakes up, though? She needs the sleep."

I looked over at the closed door to Phil's room, then let out my breath in a sigh. "I really wish he didn't have to do this. It can't be good for him."

Dylan grunted in agreement. "He shouldn't be doing it for much longer. He's been trying to get on the day shift for a while now."

We went back out to the living room to watch some more episodes of MLP. I was originally going to show Dylan the episodes with Discord, but he flat out refused. We started with _Lesson Zero _instead, and was about halfway through it when we heard the dull rumbling of a car coming into the driveway. We looked out the window, and saw Mike walking up to the house. He was wearing a drawn hoodie with a laptop bag slung over his shoulder.

"He looks pissed," Dylan observed.

I snorted. "I wonder why."

"Guys?" Mike called as he walked in the door. "I've got a problem!"

Dylan and I poked our heads over the living room railing and revealed our changes to him.

"Join the club," Dylan said.

Mike looked up and cringed. "Aw man, you guys too?"

He removed his hood, and I saw that his super-long hair had turned deep scarlet at the tips. His eyes were bright orange, like a pair of pumpkins still on the vine. I probably should've been surprised by the changes, but half of me was already expecting them.

I motioned for him to come inside. "Come and get settled. There's something we need to ask you."

"Huh? Oh, um.. okay." Mike took off his shoes and coat and came up to the living room. "When did your eyes change? I only saw mine when I got home a little while ago. I'm lucky I was in the back room most of today, otherwise my hair would've caused problems."

"About twenty minutes ago," I said. "Or at least, that's when we noticed it. Made us both nearly crap our pants. Never mind that for the moment, though, did you have... any... weird..."

I trailed off as Mike walked up the stairs. When he got to the top, he glanced warily between Dylan and I for a moment before cocking his head.

"What?"

"Uh, Apple Bloom?" Dylan said slowly. "Why're you standing on your tiptoes?"

Mike blinked. He looked down at his feet, and sure enough, his heels were totally lifted off the floor. He looked like he was about to prance around like a ballerina.

"I... don't... know," he admitted. "It feels like my heels are—hey, you guys are doing it, too!"

I looked down and saw that he was right. I hadn't noticed it, but at some point my feet had decided that this was a comfortable position to be in. I tried to lower myself down to my heels, but it felt like something was being pinched in my ankles.

"Well, that's just dandy!" Dylan threw himself into the recliner and pulled off one of his socks. "What's next, are we going to hear voices and start speaking in long-forgotten languages?!"

I made a derisive noise. "More like we'll start walking on all fours and eating hay for dinner."

Mike looked over at me with raised eyebrows. "Wait, _hay?_ What's all this about?"

Dylan was absorbed in examining his foot, so I cleared my throat and gestured for Mike down on the couch.

"I know this is going to sound weird, but..." I couldn't believe how ridiculous this was. I started to feel the hand start to close around my throat again, but I muscled through it. "Did you have any weird dreams last night? Like, really vivid ones? Possibly about a creature named Discord?"

Mike went white as a sheet. His mouth twisted into a grimace and he quickly lowered his eyes.

"How'd you know?" he murmured.

I felt my stomach plummet, but morbid curiosity kept my questions coming. "Can you tell us about it? We've an idea about what's going on, but we need more info to confirm it."

"Sweetie and I had a dream about Discord, too," Dylan cut in. "The same dream, actually, just from different perspectives. We're checking to see if it's the same as yours."

Mike fidgeted. He didn't say anything for almost a full minute, and I almost thought he wasn't going to talk. Finally, he clicked his teeth and spoke in a soft, quavering voice.

"I was a little girl pony, the one you said I have the tattoo thing of. She and her friends were in a wagon running away, but… _he_ got in front of us somehow. We tried to split up, but he turned the ground into molasses and I started to sink. I thought I was gonna drown, but then he appeared again and poked me in the forehead. My world turned into pain, and I heard him chanting something before I went under. Then I woke up."

I felt cold. The implications of this were staggering, and the world spun around me as I tried to wrap my head around it. The three of us had had the same dream on the same night, and now we were taking on the physical traits of the ponies we'd been?! This couldn't be happening! I had to be hallucinating! I reached down and pinched myself as hard as I could, but all I got was a sharp pain and a red mark on my skin.

Dylan let out a soft whistle. "Well, that's a thing."

Mike's lips parted. "You're telling me you guys had the same dream, too? Lemme guess, from the other girl ponies' perspectives?"

"_¡Por el amor de Dios!" _ I got off the couch and stamped my feet. "What is causing all this?! I'm the only one who's ever followed MLP, and none of you guys even knew who the Cutie Mark Crusaders were before I told you!"

"Breathe, _amiga._" Mike pulled out his laptop and began setting it up on the coffee table. "You're not alone in this. We can figure this out, we just need to use our heads. I'm gonna check the Internet right now to see if this is happening to anyone else. Why don't you watch some TV or something in the meantime?"

I clenched my fists. I felt a familiar tension building in my arms and legs, the pent-up energy screaming at me to screw being calm and start throwing things across the room. In my younger days I would give in to these urges, making a mighty scene and projecting my powerful voice for all to hear. However, age and experience had tempered my wisdom. A temper tantrum was cathartic, yes, but I'd still have cutie marks, long hair and oddly colored eyes afterwards.

That didn't change that I was now hyper from all the adrenaline, though. I needed to do something to wear it off, and it was then I realized that I hadn't had a proper meal today. As if on cue, my stomach made its presence known with a hunger pang.

"I'm gonna go make some food," I said. I got up and headed towards the kitchen. "Let me know if you find anything."

Dylan and Mike both cast me a wary glance, but let me go without comment. I heard the sound of the TV flip on as I tiptoed into the small, homey kitchen and opened the fridge. Inside was a gallon of milk, an assortment of juices, a jar of pickles, lunch meats, eggs, condiments, a few covered plates of leftovers, and a six-pack of beer. Nothing looked appetizing, so I opened the crisper next.

Bingo. A bag of lettuce, celery, tomatoes, baby carrots, shredded cheese, and best of all, a pair of ruby red apples. I snatched one of them and immediately began to munch on it while pulling out the other apple, along with the rest of the bounty. I spread the ingredients out on the counter, grabbed a cutting board and a knife, and set to work making a salad.

My mind wandered as I worked. The rational part of me still wasn't willing to accept that this was being caused by an extra-dimensional being that could control the fabric of time and space. Perhaps we'd been exposed to some kind of radiation? Maybe the government was storing toxic waste in a top-secret facility nearby, and somehow had leaked out and we were experiencing the side effects! We should probably go to the hospital if that was the case, but what would the doctors say when they saw our symptoms? They'd probably run a bunch of lab tests and keep us quarantined, and then we'd all have to take off work, and our families would panic and come running, and everything would turn into a huge mess.

The noise of the TV faded out as I lost myself in my thoughts. I really didn't want to get anyone else involved in this. Not doctors, not the government, and especially not our families. I hated causing mine undue stress, and I knew they worried about me enough as it was. Besides, I felt fine, aside from a faint feeling of weakness that always accompanied my hangovers, and my heart rate being up from shock. My feeling had always been to only go to hospitals for emergencies, and while everything that was happening to us was certainly strange and frightening, it wasn't life-threatening. And I didn't even want to think about what the bill would be. Even with insurance it—

"WAUGH!"

Dylan's yell almost made me cut my finger off. I whirled around, then abandoned my food and ran out to the living room to see what was wrong.

"No, no, no, no, no!" Dylan had covered his head with his arms and pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "I don't believe this. This can't be real!"

I was about to ask what was the matter, but then I saw Mike. He was holding a mirror in front of his face, and was curiously examining the pair of pale yellow equine ears poking out of his head.

"They look pretty real to me," he said calmly.

A shiver wracked my entire body. Goosebumps formed on my skin, and with a shaky hand, I reached up to feel my ears.

There was nothing there but skin and bone. I rubbed the side of my skull, but it was quite evident that my human ear was gone. I reached up farther to the top of my head, and sure enough, nestled in my hair were a pair of brand-new pony ears. Thin and flexible, they twitched as I pulled back my hair and gently poked and prodded them. My hearing seemed to be improved now, to the point that I could hear Dylan's quick, shallow breaths and the low hum of the furnace downstairs. I found I could move my them to an extent, and I spent the next thirty seconds swiveling and flopping them around.

Mike saw what I was doing and burst out laughing. He held out the mirror to me. "Want a look there, Sweetie?"

I almost said no, but I knew I was going to see them eventually. I reluctantly took the mirror and examined my new anatomy.

"Hoo boy..."

As I feared, my nascent ears were covered in white hair. It thinned out right where it met my head, then joined the rest of my normal hair, which I noticed had continued changing color, and now the pink and purple was up to my neck area. Speaking of my neck, my hairline had spread down the back of it, and now I had hair growing out of my skin all the way down to my shoulder blades.

I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. This wasn't human. It defied all reason and understanding, and it certainly threw my plans of going to the hospital out the window. The answer had been in front of me the whole time, but I hadn't even wanted to consider it for fear of being labeled as a loon. Yet now it seemed I had no choice. I had to give voice to what I knew was happening, no matter how crazy it seemed.

"Girls?" I said. "I think we're turning into—"

There had been a lot of screams today. All of them would make anyone in the vicinity come running, but their causes had merely been that of surprise, which was reflected in their pitch and tone. The sound we heard from Phil's room was completely different. It was a shriek of raw agony, unbridled terror, and mortal peril.

The three of us didn't even hesitate. We all dashed to Phil's room and threw open the door.

The messy room was dark and quiet, save for the sounds of heavy breathing and gasping sobs. I snapped on the light, and saw Phil sitting bolt upright in his bed with tears streaming down his face. His pony ears were brown, his long, disheveled hair was filled with red streaks, and his deep green eyes reminded me of my own. A trio of freckles adorned each of his cheeks, and he made a choked noise of relief as he saw the three of us.

"You got away," he croaked with unfocused eyes. "Thank Celestia, you all got away. I thought for sure Discord—"

Phil stopped himself as he regained his senses. He looked around his room, then turned back to us and took in our changes. We all stood in silence for almost a full minute while we stared at each other in utter disbelief.

It was Dylan who spoke first.

"I sure hope hay tastes better as a pony."


	4. Unpleasant Truths

Chapter 4:

Unpleasant Truths

"We need to get help," I said.

The four of us were now in the living room after confirming that Phil had had the same nightmare as us. He was understandably shaken up from it, and had a blanket wrapped around him as he sat shivering on the couch. Mike sat alongside him and was slowly massaging his back to calm him down.

"From who?" Dylan asked. There was a _click_ as he pulled out the recliner footrest. "I don't have any ponies on my friend lists, last I checked. Are you holding out on us, Mage?"

"Not from other ponies, idiot." I adjusted myself in the loveseat. "I mean from the authorities or something! This is bigger than us, and we're not going to be able to handle it on our own!"

"Says who?" Mike used his free hand to pull the Internet back up on his computer. "We don't even fully know what's going on! Besides, a shared dream and a bunch of similarities to a group of cartoon characters isn't going to mean anything to doctors or cops. All they're going to look at are the changes to our bodies."

"How much farther do you think the changes are gonna go?" Phil pulled his blanket closer to himself. "I'm already not going to be able to go to work like this, and we're not gonna be able to even go out in public at this rate!"

He brought up a good point. I looked down at my bare feet and poked one of my heels. It didn't hurt, but the muscles below my ankle felt dull for some reason. It was too soon to say for sure, but between the lack of feeling and the standing on tiptoes, I'd a pretty good idea of what was happening down there.

"We're probably going all the way," I said with reluctance. "Think about it. Our ears, eyes and hair have already gone pony, and it looks like our feet are next. I hate to admit it, but I see no reason why the rest of our bodies won't follow suit."

Mike sighed. "Figures. I was planning on asking out this cute girl that started working

front desk last week. Doubt she's interested in dating cross-species."

Dylan waggled his eyebrows. "I dunno, chicks dig hor—waaaaaaait a second!" He sat upright and gripped the sides of the recliner. "We think we're turning into the Cutie Mark Crusaders, right?!"

I flattened my ears. Which, by the way, was a _very_ weird sensation. "Glad to see you've been paying attention."

Dylan narrowed his eyes. "Well apparently you haven't, because last I checked, the Cutie Mark Crusaders were _girls._"

I don't know why that took so long to register with me. Maybe it was because I'd known the Crusaders' genders for years, so I merely took his announcement as statement of fact. Maybe it was because I was flustered by all of this, and I was having trouble making connections. Or maybe it was because my mind had already accepted it on a subconscious level, so I didn't see anything wrong with it. Regardless of the reason, it was several seconds before the weight of what he'd said hit me, but when it did, I crossed my legs and cringed.

"_Eso no es bueno,_" I mumbled.

"Yeah," Dylan agreed, "and here's another thing for you to feel stupid about: I just realized we've been calling each other by our pony names every so often since we watched the show. Heck, we've even been occasionally using feminine pronouns!"

My earlier dizziness returned as I looked back at the past hour and realized she—no, _he_ was right! Damn it, the physical changes were bad enough, but our minds were being affected, too?! To what extent? Would we have to coexist inside the same body? Were we going to fuse together somehow, so that the end result was a little bit of me and a little bit of her?

"You guys can't be serious!" Phil began wringing a portion of his mane in his hands. "You're saying that not only are going to have to turn in our man cards, we're also being brainwashed somehow?!"

Dylan shrugged. "Pretty much, though I don't think anything is going to happen to 'us,' if you catch my meaning. Remember Discord's poem? He said the Cutie Mark Crusaders' memories would be removed. I figure he completely blanked their minds, then transported their bodies to merge with similar humans that were just turning twenty-five. In other words, us."

I was on the verge of fearing for my life when I was suddenly struck with an epiphany. Yes, my body and mind were changing into something alien, and it was doubtful that I'd come out of this completely unscathed, but when it was all said and done, _I'd be Sweetie Belle._ Sweetie Belle, adorable sister of Rarity, founding member of the Cutie Mark Crusaders, starlet extraordinaire, citizen of Ponyville and full-fledged native of Equestria! Entire episodes were dedicated to her, and while she may have been a secondary character, she was still well-known and loved in the fandom.

My fear morphed into excitement. It was true that I had hopes and goals and dreams of my own and I'd worked my ass off to get my career off the ground. I was financially stable, reasonably happy, and my overall future looked bright. However, when I looked at what I'd be gaining, it seemed like a pretty good deal. I mean, I was gonna be a celebrity that could use freaking magic, for crying out loud! How cool was that?!

"Why twenty-five, though?" Phil asked. "That seems like a pretty random number."

Dylan looked up at the ceiling. "Even just from a dream, I can tell that nothing about Discord makes any kind of sense. Mage called him the spirit of Chaos and Disharmony, which is probably the only two things he's consistent about. He very well could've chose twenty-five-year-olds just because he liked the sound of it. I don't think it's worth trying to figure out Discord's motivations when we've got more pressing things to worry about, like how we're all going to have to take our leaks sitting down pretty soon."

"I don't think ponies actually use toilets," Mike said. He then looked thoughtful and looked over at me. "Do they?"

I held up my hands. "Don't look at me. The only thing I know about is stuff from the show, and I've no idea how close that is to anything."

"Our changes have been spot-on so far," Phil said. He rotated Mike's laptop, which displayed a picture of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. "You may as well tell us everything you know. I don't know about the rest of you, but it'll make me feel better if I at least have an idea of what to expect."

"You'll get more answers from that than me." I pointed at the MLP box set on the coffee table. "I actually wouldn't mind a refresher course, myself."

Phil frowned. "I'm not in the mood to watch anything right now. I'd rather you just told us the important parts."

"The show is also kind of addictive," Dylan said to me as he tapped the side of his head. "Or did you not notice how we both got sucked in?"

Phil gave him a questioning look. "When'd you see it?"

Dylan fished around in his pocket for his cigarettes. "Swee—_Mage _finally whittled me down while you were sleeping. I don't recommend watching it unless you want hours to fly by like minutes."

I pursed my lips. I'd no problem with nerding out on them, but the problem was that I had no idea how much of the show was true. Were Ponyville and Canterlot real places? Did Equestria really have cartoon physics? Were Celestia and Luna really thousands of years old? Did Derpy really love muffins?

"I suppose I can fill you in, but I don't want you guys taking everything I say as Word of God." I picked at a stray cushion thread. "I understand that you guys are flying blind, but my view of things isn't much clearer, so just keep that in mind."

There was an assortment of nods in response, so I gathered my thoughts and began telling them everything that I knew about the show. I started with a brief history of Equestria, which included the unification of the three tribes, Discord, and Luna's fall and ultimate purification. I then was about to go into detail about the Mane Six, but Dylan pointed out that a general description of the races would be more beneficial, so I covered the differences between alicorns, earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi instead. Ironically, that wound up taking longer than the history part, as the guys kept interrupting me with questions, and by the time I'd finished the sun had already gone down. It also didn't help that I kept getting distracted by their hair, which was continuing to change as I talked. Their new colors kept creeping closer and closer to their heads, until finally their hair was fully like a pony's mane. I forced myself not to think about what mine looked like and finished with a description of the show's plot and the Elements of Harmony.

"Originally, the show took place from Twilight's perspective as she settled in Ponyville and learned lessons about how to be a good friend to others." I closed my mouth and licked my teeth. "That focus later shifted to all the Bearers learning those same lessons, and then again to just generic adventures with morals attached to them. The lessons that each Bearer learned helped keep them in sync with their respective Elements, which, as was shown when they fought Discord, was necessary for the relics to be wielded to their fullest extent."

"So the title of the show is literal," Mike said.

I looked over at him. "What do you mean?"

Mike rested his elbows on his knees. "It sounds like friendship is an actual source of energy that is used as a weapon in this universe... the most powerful weapon, even. Certainly more powerful than anything humans have made, unless you know of some new technology that can seal goddesses and spirits away for thousands of years."

"Humans aren't fans of long-term imprisonment," Dylan said with a macabre smirk. "We tend to prefer more permanent solutions."

"How is a Bearer chosen?" Phil cut in. "Are they pre-destined for it, or can anyone become one?"

I didn't respond at first. I initially wanted to say it was destiny because there'd been insinuations that such a thing existed in the show, but if that was the case, why did Celestia and Luna become disconnected from the Elements after the Nightmare Moon incident? Was it their destiny to leave Equestria without its greatest defense for one thousand years? It was never mentioned what kinds of dangers Celestia faced in the millennium she ruled alone, but if the frequency of the series' problems was any indication, she'd probably wished she'd had the Elements of Harmony on more than one occasion.

I turned and looked out the window. "That's never fully explained, but it's implied that a Bearer can become disconnected from their Element if they fall too far away from what it represents. When that happens, the Element will bond to someone new who's compatible with it."

Dylan rolled his shoulders. "That'd explain why Celestia hid 'em in the Everfree. I'll bet she didn't want the power falling into the wrong hooves—er, hands."

Mike put his feet up on the coffee table. "What if a Bearer dies or becomes disabled somehow? Does their Element still stay bonded to them?"

I laughed incredulously. "We're talking about a cartoon for little girls here! Not even the villains—er, scratch that, there was one that bit the dust, but none of the heroes ever even got seriously hurt in the show. I'd guess that the answer is yes, but I don't know for sure."

"So if I'm hearing you right," Phil said slowly, "it's possible for anyone to become a Bearer, so long as they're in range of an unbonded Element and they're compatible with it?"

"That would make sense." I closed my eyes and remembered what Discord had said to Sweetie. "Also, I think immediate family members somehow resonate with a Bearer's Element, though I don't know whether it's because of DNA, having similar personalities, or some kind of 'magical spillover.'"

Dylan suddenly let out a yelp. Mike and Phil did as well a fraction of a second later. I was about to ask what was wrong when I felt something stab my tailbone. We all leapt up in surprise, and I reached back to see if whatever had jabbed me had drawn blood.

I laughed. I didn't feel anything wet, but I did feel something else I hadn't expected yet. "Hey Babs," I said. "Got a pair of scissors?"

Phil pulled out his new red, two-toned tail and glowered at me. "Don't call me that."

I chuckled and pulled out my own. It was much like my mane, which was to say, pink, purple, and incredibly curly. I tried to see if I could move it, and found that it had about as much range of motion as my shoulder.

"You know," Mike said as he watched Phil go into the kitchen. "I doubt we're the only ones this is happening to."

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "How do you figure?"

Phil came back with a pair of scissors and handed them to Mike, who cut a hole in the back of his jeans and threaded his tail through it. "Discord's poem also said something about 'scattering the six.' I assume he meant the Mane Six, which means he did the same thing to them as us. They might be in the human world somewhere."

I thought about the implications of that as Mike handed me the scissors. It was comforting to think that we might not be alone, but we may as well be without knowing where any of our fellow soon-to-be ponies were. Trying to find them would be next to impossible without some kind of lead, and if we weren't careful about it, we could attract the wrong kind of attention.

"We should look on the Internet." I pointed at the laptop. "Try doing a Google search for the things that have happened to us and see if anything comes up. Maybe someone's made a Facebook post or something."

Mike took care to move his tail out of the way before sitting back down and pulling the coffee table closer. Meanwhile, Phil pulled out his phone

"What'cha doing?" Dylan asked him.

"Calling my family," Phil replied. "I'm curious to know if any of them have been affected by this. You guys should probably do the same."

"I don't know if asking outright is a good idea," I said.

"Then be subtle about it." Phil walked down the stairs and went down into the basement. "Hey, Mom... yeah, I just woke up a little bit ago... the party went fine, we all had a good time. Listen, there's something I wanna ask you..."

I exhaled out my nose as I watched Dylan pull out his phone as well and go into the kitchen. It was true we needed help, but I worried that our families might be more of a detriment than an asset. They weren't going to know what to do anymore than us, for one, and getting too many people involved would do nothing but bog things down. There was also the issue of having to explain what we were turning into, and I really didn't feel like fielding questions like that over and over.

I hung my head and happened to glance at my feet again. The changes down there had continued, and now my middle toe was significantly larger and had a thicker toenail. I also noticed that I had even less feeling below my ankle, and I thought idly about how difficult operating a brake and gas pedal was going to be pretty soon. I realized with a start that we'd most likely be stuck wherever we were in twenty-four hours, unless there was another person with us who could run errands and the like.

Suddenly getting family involved didn't seem like such a bad idea. It wouldn't hurt to at least touch base with them and drop a few vague questions, but I wasn't gonna go any farther than that just yet. There was a reason why I'd never told my parents about MLP, and as far as I was concerned, the less they knew, the better. Shmangie would be much more open and understanding, but she'd be too busy to be of much help. I sighed and went into the spare bedroom for some privacy.

I got a hold of my parents without issue. They were currently out of state visiting my aunt and uncle, but after ten minutes of chatting, it became clear that the most problematic thing in their lives was they'd had _arroz con pollo _for three nights in a row. I tried calling Shmangie after that, but it just went straight to her voicemail. That didn't surprise me, as she spent almost all of her free time either running errands or sleeping. I would've been more surprised if I _had_ gotten ahold of her, to be honest.

I put my phone away and went back out to the living room. I found the others all gathered around Mike's laptop, and my heart skipped a beat as I heard the words 'Cutie Mark.' I got closer and craned my head to see what they were looking at.

"Dammit, it was just there just a second ago!" Mike refreshed the page he was on, but all he got was a 404 error. "I found a Twitter post about someone getting a Cutie Mark, but now it's gone, along with the entire page!"

"Looks like the entire account's been deleted." Phil examined the page and curled his lip. "Whoever owned it must not have wanted to broadcast what was happening to them."

Dylan crossed his arms. "Understandable, but now they're just as alone as us. Did you find anything else?"

Mike shook his head. "That was the only relevant search result. Everything else was just old forum discussion topics or fanfiction."

I groaned. "So much for that idea."

"Don't scratch it off just yet." Mike yawned. "Just because there isn't any information now doesn't mean there isn't going to be. If this really is happening to other people, then sooner or later one of them will appear in public, and every media source is going to explode about it."

Dylan mimicked Mike's yawn. "And then what? We find a way to contact them, or something?"

"Depends." Mike got to his feet and stretched. "We might be able to if they're close by, otherwise we'll just have to wait and see how they're treated. How'd the phone calls go, by the way?"

Phil snorted. "About as well as you'd expect. I spent thirty seconds telling to my mom what's going on, and the next ten minutes convincing her that I wasn't on acid."

"Yours thought you were on acid? Nice!" Dylan raised his hand for a high five. "Mine thought I was on shrooms."

"I didn't even bother trying to tell mine," I said. "No one's going to believe us about this unless they see us in person, anyway."

"And I'd rather we held off on that," Phil said. He smacked Dylan's hand, then looked over at the three of us with an amused expression. "You guys look tired. Do you want to crash now? I can keep looking online if you want."

I considered it, then realized I really was tired. I let out a yawn of my own and felt the subtle pull of the spare bed calling to me. "Yeah, I think that sounds like a good idea."

"Dibs on the spare room!" Dylan called.

"Oh, hell no!" Mike tried to beat him there, but Dylan got there first and shut the door in his face.

"Scootaloo!" Mike banged on the door. "I mean Dylan! Argh, freaking hell, whoever you are, let me in so I can shove that new tail of yours where the sun don't shine!"

"My tail is super-ultra-extreme-awesomazing!" I heard the sound of springs squeaking, and I could only assume Dylan was jumping on the bed. "You only wish yours was as good as mine!"

"I don't have to wish when it already is!" Mike took a step back from the door and prepared to charge.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I stepped in front of him. "Let's not go breaking down any doors! You can just sleep in Phil's room!"

Mike blinked several times. He looked at me for a few seconds, then the door, and finally shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, I suppose I can. What about you, though?"

I gently pushed him away from the door. "I'll take the futon in the basement. That thing is crazy comfortable, anyways."

"Don't know why I got so ornery all of a sudden," Mike muttered. "Probably something to do with all this. If I weren't so tired I'd be terrified over whatever new changes that are gonna happen overnight..."

I thought about telling him that I was excited rather than frightened, but I held my tongue. My acceptance was because I'd been a fan of the show for years, which was something he couldn't relate to. I'd also run the risk of him suspecting I had something to do with this again.

I bade him and Dylan good night, then I went back out the living room. Phil had turned on the TV and was watching a late-night talk show while he surfed the Net.

"I assume you're going to be up for a while," I said.

Phil took a slow, deep breath and looked up at me with imploring eyes. "I wouldn't be able to sleep now if I tried. Not only is all this going to cost us our jobs, it's going to cost me the house. I had my whole life planned out, and now I'm going to have to throw it all down the drain because I'm turning into a stupid cartoon horse?! What was it all for?! Why is this happening to us?! Why did Discord decide that we have to be the ones who have to play host to his stupid little curse?!"

I didn't know what to say to him. His concerns were valid, and while I felt like we were getting a fair trade for what we were losing, I knew he wouldn't see it that way. Phil was a quiet, reserved guy who absolutely hated being in the spotlight. Heck, the most outgoing thing he'd ever done was drive a float in the yearly summer parade! I didn't want to give him any shallow or trite consolations, but I wasn't coming up with anything else, so I just looked away and nervously shuffled my feet.

Phil scoffed at my silence. He turned his attention back to the computer and said nothing more. I stood there for a little while longer in case he had anything more to say, but his dismissal was clear. Not knowing what else to do, I patted his shoulder in a half-hearted gesture and went downstairs to crash.

The call of nature woke me in the middle of the night. I had a moment of disorientation as I remembered where I was, but I quickly remembered and got up off the futon. The darkness in the basement was almost absolute, but I fixed that by turning on a lamp.

The basement was very bare compared to the upstairs. The only furniture was the futon, an end table, and an old entertainment center. The cold concrete floor was only partially covered with dusty rugs, and the walls were unadorned. A musty smell and a heavy sense of emptiness filled the air.

I freed my tail from the blankets and shambled over to the basement bathroom in a fog of drowsiness. I tried to recall if I'd had any more pertinent dreams, but I doubted watching a pair of anthropomorphic slot machines duel each other with kitchen knives had much meaning. However, the 'battle music' that was playing in the background was eerily familiar. I wracked my brain for what it was, but it was like grasping at vapors.

I entered the tiny bathroom and regarded my shadowy silhouette with trepidation. A glance at a glowing digital clock told me that I'd slept for four hours, which based on the changes thus far, meant that some other part of our bodies had now gone pony. Giddy anticipation eventually overwhelmed my nervousness, and I clumsily fumbled for the light for a few seconds before finding it and turning it on.

The first thing I noticed was the giant pimple in the center of my forehead. It was twice the size of a quarter, and protruded a full inch away from my head. I wrinkled my nose and poked at the whitened tip, but when I felt its smooth, hardened texture, I realized this 'pimple' was not a pimple at all.

_"Ahhh, me gusta," _I whispered as I delicately ran my fingers over my proto-horn. It looked like it had just broken the skin, but there wasn't any pain, redness, or inflammation that I could see or feel. The tip was surprisingly sensitive, strangely enough, but I wasn't sure if that was because it was still coming in, or if it would be that way all the time. I fervently hoped it wouldn't be the latter.

Idly, I searched within myself to see if I'd attained some instinctual understanding of how to use magic, but all I managed to do was go cross-eyed. The effort made me giggle, but my mirth was abruptly cut short, for when I heard my own voice, I realized it was very, very different.

"Is this really my voice?" I said. It was higher, clearer, smoother, and carried a melodious note of power that sent a shiver down my spine. More than that, though, it was undeniably _feminine._ I was suddenly struck with an image of myself as an opera singer, standing alone amongst a stage as I filled the theater with mellifluous song.

My soft, bright eyes became filled with uncertainty. I took a closer look at myself, and I found that my visage had undergone other subtle changes. My face was more angular, almost like a teardrop, and my neck had become more slender. My shoulders had become narrower, and my curly mane flowed down my back in waves. I was never the most masculine of guys, but now my appearance was androgynous at best, and it was with a looming sense of dread that I remembered why I was awake in the first place. A large part of me didn't want to look, but the logical side of my mind pointed out how difficult it would be to never look at my pubic region again, so in a quick, fluid motion, I ripped off my boxers and inspected my loins.

I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. "_Adios, Y cromosoma."_

The good news was that it was a complete swap. There wasn't any male 'equipment' left, and I wasn't stuck in some kind of weird gender limbo. The bad news was, well… I was a girl now. Even knowing it was going to happen didn't soften the blow, as it was one thing to talk about something like this, but quite another to take in the ramifications. Everything about my life was going to change, from the pronouns I used to the chemicals that my body produced, to the way society perceived me. Hell, I could even get pregnant now! Now there's something I never thought I'd have to worry about!

I sat down on the toilet and rested my elbows on my knees. Was I going to be okay with this? I mean, okay, it wasn't like I could do anything about it if I wasn't, but I still had to choose whether I accepted it or not. Surprisingly, the predominant feeling I felt wasn't depression, but rather curiosity. I'd almost exclusively been raised by women my entire life, and a part of me had always wished I could relate or participate in the things that they did and shared. Now it seemed I was going to get chance, and I was eager to see what life was like on the other side of the fence.

I doubted that the guys, er… _ girls_ were going to be as open-minded, though. Dylan would get over it pretty quick, Mike would come around after she got used to it, but Phil? She was already pretty upset about possibly losing her house. How well was she going to deal with this, as well?

My ears twitched as I heard the soft sounds of the TV upstairs. As quietly as I could, I got redressed and crept upstairs to see if Phil was awake. I found her sitting on the living room couch, covered in a wool blanket and staring out the window with puffy, unfocused eyes. Her face had undergone the same changes as mine, and fresh tears ran now down her face as she hiccuped and closed her eyes.

I cleared my throat. "Phil."

Phil jumped at the alien voice. She whirled and saw me at the top of the stairs, but her expression was still tense. Her lips parted, and she stole a glance southward before meeting my eyes.

I nodded. "Yeah, me too."

My confirmation was apparently the last straw. Phil's posture slumped, and she hung her head and dissolved into tears.

"I s-saw it h-happen," she said. "It c-changed right before m-my eyes... W-what are we g-going to… I can't… I c-can't do this, M-Mage... "

I closed the distance in a flash and hugged her as hard as I could. She buried her head in my shoulder and continued to sob. I tried to say something, anything at all to make her feel better, but I've never exactly been the comforting type. I wanted her to understand that our future wasn't as bleak as she thought. I wanted to tell her that we'd all be there for her in any way we could. I wished I could give her a grandiose, heartfelt speech about how we at least had each other while going through this. Unfortunately, I didn't think of any of those things. All I did was gently rock her back and forth while she cried.

I'm not sure what it was that did it. Maybe it was my newly-formed horn, maybe it was because the transformation had reached a specific point, or perhaps it was the duress that set it off. Regardless of the catalyst, a small green spark formed on the tip of my horn and shot forward to hit Phil square in the forehead.

"AHH!"

Phil let out a strangled yell, and my brain was abruptly speared with a lance of pain. I pulled away and clutched my head, but the feeling only worsened. I was dimly aware of Phil falling to the ground as my vision went white and I was inundated with a flood of information.

_A small, sleepy village nestled in the shadow of a great mountain. A lush, verdant valley that held everything I knew and loved. An immense, dark forest that held secrets, wonders, and nightmares. _

_"The Bowling Dolls! That's it!" _

_"It's not chaos, you dodo!" _

_"Why does everypony always think I'm gonna sing?"_

_My three best friends, all eager, happy and determined to find their places in life. A schoolhouse where we learned, played and watched out for each other. Countless adventures we had together, each one holding their own lessons and strengthening our camaraderie. _

_"Eat your brussel sprouts, young lady!"_

_"C'mere, kiddo, let your old stallion show you how it's done!"_

_"You see? We *are* apple pie!"_

_A mother, father and sister that loved me more than life itself. A home filled with nostalgia and love. A bedroom filled with belongings, foreign, yet familiar._

_"You think we can outrun him?"_

_"Where is he?!"_

_"SCATTER!"_

_A wolf in sheep's clothing. An unanticipated attack. The wrath of a sibling, too little, too late._

_"SWEETIE! COME BACK! DAMN YOU, DISCORD, GIVE ME BACK MY SISTER!"_

_More and more memories filled my mind, each of them from the perspective of one I never thought was real. Hopes. dreams, and desires inserted themselves in my psyche, adding to, but not overwriting the ones already there. A terrible truth revealed itself, and all I could do was scream out my rage for all to hear._

_"Sweetie!" Mom called from downstairs._

_"Sweetie!" Cheerilee said to me in class._

_"Sweetie!" Apple Bloom yelled from across the playground._

_"Sweetie!" Twilight called from the library loft._

_"SWEETIE!" Rarity screamed as I fell from Discord's grasp._

My head swam. My thoughts were a mess. My memories ended and began in an order that made no sense. I was Sweetie. I was Mage. I was Sweetie. I was Mage. One life ended, another began, and it was only due to Rarity's efforts that was I able to see and claim both.

I knew now what had happened, I knew who I was. Yet what to do with this information was less clear. I opened my eyes and found myself laying on the floor next to the couch. I slowly sat up with a groan.

I wasn't alone. Somepony else had just come to a short ways away. I looked over and saw a familiar face blinking at me like an owl in the light of dawn.

"Sweetie?" Babs said uncertainly.

I grinned. "_Hola, señorita."_


	5. A Return to Form

Chapter 5:

A Return to Form

"What the hay did you just do?!" Babs said as she woozily got to her feet.

"Uh, magic?" I offered. It felt like someone had broken down a wall inside my mind with a sledgehammer. My horn was throbbing in time with my heartbeat. A headache was brewing that I could already tell was going to put my earlier one to shame.

Babs grabbed the side of the couch to steady herself. "I remember now... I remember everything! Whatever you just did brought all my old memories back!"

I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. My pony memories lay beyond a muddled blur that I could only assume were my first few years as a human. I remembered everything that took place in Ponyville for six years, and that put my earliest memories around when I was two. Amusingly, that also put my chronological age at thirty-three.

"_Un hombre_," I muttered.

Babs looked quizzically over at me. "What?"

I opened my eyes wide and yelled in a voice filled with venom. _"¡Ese hijo de puta me convirtió en un hombre!_ _Lo voy a matar!"_

Babs blinked several times. "English, please! Or Equestrian, that works too—hey! I'm bilingual now!"

I ignored her and continued my rant. "He took everything from us! He ripped us from our families, dumped us here to rot, made us think we were completely different creatures, and top it all off he puts those… those _things_ between our legs?! Oh, ho, ho, he'd better pray I don't find a way back to Equestria, because if I do, I'm going to shove my rapier up his—"

"—no, you won't," Babs interrupted. She heavily sat down on the couch. "You wouldn't even be able to get close to him. He'd probably just turn your sword into a trout or something and put the curse back on you. Face it, Ma—er... Sweetie? Wow, I'm not actually sure what to call you now. Or myself, for that matter! Which names do you think we should use from now on?"

I did a double take at the abrupt change of topic, but I understood that we'd just been hit with an information overload. As much as I didn't want to admit it, we didn't stand a chance at revenge. We were just a bunch of foals that ran around and did silly things, and then a bunch of humans that lived normal lives. Discord was an age-old spirit with untold powers at his disposal. What could we possibly do to him?

I snorted and looked away. "We were ponies first, but if you think about it, that time only accounts for a fourth of our total lives now. It's a personal call at this point, and I'll respond to either of my names, so call me whatever you want."

My tone was clipped, but I'd no intention of angsting over some kind of identity crisis. I didn't want to hold Babs' hoof through one, either. I didn't feel any kind of separation between where one life ended and the other began, so I didn't have an issue with thinking that both my personas were one and the same. I was slightly amused when I realized I'd been wrong about turning into Sweetie Belle, though. It'd be kinda hard to turn into something I already was.

Babs pursed her lips and looked down at the floor. "I suppose humanity's got a bigger claim to us now, doesn't it? It's weird, though. Both 'Babs' and 'Phil' feel familiar to me, almost interchangeable, really! You'd think they'd feel like separate identities, but they don't at all! I doubt it's going to cause any confusion if we switch names now and then, so... I guess I feel the same way as you?"

I ran a hand through my mane. I was at a loss of what to do or even what to think. There was so much to talk about, and things were happening before I'd had a chance to process them. For example, I looked down at my feet, and saw that they'd almost finished _reverting_ back into hooves. We probably had about a day or so before we fully turned back to our pony selves, and then we'd be stuck as aliens on foreign world with no knowledge of how to get home. Which, by the way, was currently being ruled over by a usurper who'd banished us here in the first place.

I almost wished I could go back to just worrying about the 'transformation.'

"Speaking of the others." I slowly got to my feet. "We should wake them. See if we can get their memories back, too."

Babs looked up at my stubby horn. "Do you know how you broke the curse?"

"Nope!" I said without missing a beat. "But I didn't know what I was doing the first time, either! I'm just gonna do the same thing and hope it works!"

Babs chuckled. "That's pretty much the approach we take for everything." She stood up and cracked her neck. "This oughta be entertaining, at the very least."

"Oh ye of little faith," I teased. "When has toying with powerful forces we don't understand _ever_ come back to bite us in the flank?"

A part of me was surprised to find using pony mannerisms felt normal after so long, but seeing as my fillyhood memories felt 'new' and were in the forefront of my mind, I was willing to take it in stride. Trying to overthink things right now was just going to lead to more stress and worsening my headache, and those were the last things I wanted right now.

Babs gave me a level look. "Two words: duct tape."

I snickered as we went to her room. "You know, now that I think about it, that was about on par with our cutie mark escapades."

Babs hummed in thought. "I dunno. We never got the cops called on us in Equestria."

"The law enforcement in Equestria was ridiculously lax," I pointed out. "I can think of three separate incidents off the top off my head that would've landed us in juvy had they happened on Earth."

Babs laughed and opened the door. "Different worlds have different ways of handling things, I suppose."

Loud, nasal snores greeted us as we walked inside the pitch-black bedroom. I turned on the light, and saw Mike laying spread-eagle on the bed with her shirt draped over her eyes like a sleeping mask. Her scarlet tail poked out of the covers on the side of the bed, and her mane was a hilariously tangled mess.

Babs poked my shoulder and whispered in my ear. "Try not to wake her if you can help it. Crankiness from lack of sleep runs in the family."

I nodded and crept to the edge of the bed. My pony memories gave me an elementary understanding of how magic worked, but that wasn't what I was banking on to break the curse. I remembered that unicorns built up the energy for a spell in their bodies before releasing it, and that process required a great deal of concentration and triggered a specific set of internal sensations. I hadn't felt a thing when I'd broken the curse for Babs and I, and I hadn't been concentrating, either. My thinking was that Discord had been interrupted when he was putting the curse on me, and I suspected that had something to do with what was going on now.

Mike was sprawled out right in the center of Babs' queen-size bed. Gingerly, I put my weight on the mattress and stealthily leaned over her sleeping form. She snored on obliviously as I slowly lowered my horn to her forehead.

A bright green spark formed and jolted her with a sound like static electricity.

"HUZBAGH!"

Mike yelled and tried to sit up. I say 'tried', because I was still leaning over her and she wound up headbutting me in the nose. I reared back in pain, and she clutched her head while convulsing and garbling out nonsense.

"Apple Bloom!" Babs ran to her cousin. She yanked the sheets away and held her still so she wouldn't fall off the bed. Meanwhile, I sat on the floor cradling my nose and cursing in Spanish.

Mike ceased her thrashing a few seconds later. Her orange eyes fluttered open, and her pupils shrank as they adjusted to the light. She blinked several times, and when she saw Babs leaning over her, she licked her lips and spoke in a high-pitched southern twang.

"Cousin?"

Babs smiled gleefully. "Do you remember?"

Apple Bloom nodded slowly. "Yeah, I reckon I do... ah, jeez, I still got the accent and everythin'!"

Babs giggled and hugged her. "It fits you! Too bad I lost mine from living in Ponyville for that year."

Apple Bloom returned the embrace and looked out the door. "How are we rememberin' everything all of a sudden? Where are the others?"

"Don't mind me," I called from the floor. "I'm not in any considerable pain or anything. I didn't just break you free from Discord's curse, either."

Babs looked over at me and rolled her eyes. "You should've known that was going to happen from how we both reacted before! Use your head next time."

I scoffed. "Forgive me for not planning out every single minute detail. I wasn't even sure it was going to work at all!"

"Well, now you know not to do that." Babs smirked. "And as they say, knowing is—"

"Finish that and I'll gore you."

"Uh, hello?" Apple Bloom waved her hands. "Can somepony fill me in?"

"Hold on to your questions, Bloom." Satisfied that nothing was broken, I let go of my throbbing nose and headed for the door. "I'm going to give Scoots her memories back, then we can sit down and talk about this together."

"Uh, Sweetie?" Apple Bloom called. "You might have some trouble with that. She locked the door, remember?"

I hadn't remembered, actually. "Oh for the love of..." I threw up my hands. "I'm not waiting until morning for her to come waltzing out at her leisure! Do you have a key, Babs?"

"For a bedroom door?" Babs made a derisive noise. "You think this is an apartment complex or something?"

I crossed my arms. I wasn't going to let Scootaloo's impulsiveness get in the way. I looked down at my hooves, and noted how solid they felt... like a pair of steel-toed hiking boots with the steel part covering your entire foot.

"Time to fight fire with fire." I went out into the hallway and stood in front of the spare room. I tried the handle one more time just to make sure, then I turned around and got down on all fours. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, the position was rather comfortable. I took a second to line myself up, then took a deep breath and bucked the door as hard as I could.

_CRUNCH!_

The door was ripped off its hinges and sailed into the room. It crashed against the far wall with a _BANG,_ and was immediately followed by Dylan yelling out in alarm. I straightened back up, examined the damage, then casually walked into the dark room.

"Rise and shine, fellow Crusader!" I sang as I flicked on the light. "We've got a big day of adventure waiting for us!"

"Mage, what the hell?!" Dylan shouted in a scratchy, feminine alto. She shielded her eyes with a blanket. "Get out! I'm not wearing any—WAAAAH! MY THING! IT'S GONE!"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Good riddance, I say! Weren't you the one who brought that to our attention in the first place? What, did you think you were going to be exempt from it or something?"

Dylan whimpered and looked up at me with hurt, watery eyes. Her lower lip quivered as she fumbled for her words. "I-I…"

I immediately regretted making light of the situation. I didn't think she'd have an issue with it, but it seemed she'd just been putting up a front to save face. I felt a pang of guilt, but on the other hoof, I also knew the quickest way to make her to get over it.

I softened both my voice and my eyes. "Hey, hey. I'm sorry. It'll be all right." I sat down on the bed and opened my arms.

Still under the blanket, Dylan sniffled and hung her head. She scooched over to accept my embrace, and as she did, I grabbed her by the shoulders and held her steady.

"What—JEZUIAKEP!"

The green spark formed and hit Dylan's forehead. She recoiled, and I quickly got up and away so as to not get hit by any flailing limbs.

"Overkill, much?"

I turned and saw Babs and Apple Bloom were at the door. Apple Bloom had tied her mane back in a ponytail not unlike how Applejack always did, and was examining the doorframe. Babs was staring me down with her hands on her hips.

"You coulda just knocked and said you wanted to talk to her about something." Babs clucked her tongue at the two obvious dents in the fallen door. "Or gone outside and thrown a rock, or jiggled the door handle loose, or—"

"I didn't feel like thinking about it." I lifted one of my hooves and wiggled it at her. "Plus I wanted to try these babies out. They pack quite a wallop!"

"No kidding." Apple Bloom motioned to the splintered chunks littering the doorway. "You took out half the frame with the door!"

I examined the damage with no small amount of apathy. I wasn't about to get into an argument on the ethics of destroying a door in a place that, in all likelihood, we wouldn't be staying for much longer. I suspected Babs was thinking along the same lines, as she didn't even look all that upset about the damage.

"For the love of Celestia's sacred flank, Sweetie!"

The three of us turned and saw Scootaloo slowly sitting up as she held her head. She spoke again in a voice filled with barely-restrained anger. "A little warning would be nice the next time you want to split my head open with a rail spike!"

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Sorry. You were getting upset, and I figured it best to just get it over with. Was either that or listen to you freak out over losing your schlong."

In response, Scootaloo gave me the finger.

"You do remember though, right?" Babs interrupted. "Your past life and everything?"

A lopsided smirk crept on Scootaloo's face. She took a deep, calming breath, then hopped up on top of the bed. "Assuming said past life starred me as the second-coolest pegasus this side of the Everfree? Hell yeah!" She crossed her arms like she was hugging herself. "It's time to get crunk, Crusadaz! Gangstaloo is in the hizzaaaaaay!"

The three of us groaned and facepalmed in unison.

"The world is not ready for this," I muttered.

"And I thought she was obnoxious before," Apple Bloom said.

"Think it's possible to put the curse back on her somehow?" Babs asked.

Scootaloo made a dismissive noise and hopped off the bed. "Ya'll just be sippin' on hatorade! You know you can't be denyin' my swagger!"

"Hey, Gangstaloo." I picked her jeans off the ground and threw them at her. "Put on your clothes before I bust a cap in your ass."

Scootaloo caught the pair of jeans and stared at them for a few seconds with a blank look on her face. She looked up at me and cocked her head.

"Why?"

"Why?" I repeated. "What you mean, 'why?' We can see your, well… everything!"

It wasn't that I had a hard time saying the word. Occasionally, my brain will misfire and I'll try to say two or more things at once. I either wind up tongue-tied when this happens, or I spit out some bizarre fusion of both words. This has led to both some embarrassing and hilarious situations, but I wasn't in the mood for it right now.

"She's got a point, Sweetie," Apple Bloom said from behind me. "We're not gonna be able to wear clothes as ponies, and we're changin' back real fast here. Might be good for us to get back into the swing o'things."

"No, we—" I corrected myself and started over. "I mean, yes, you're right, and I agree we're not going to be able to wear clothes once we turn back, but we haven't yet, all right? We're gonna have to go out in public at least one more time, so we may as well keep our clothes on until then. Once we get wherever we decide to go, I promise we can all run around in the nude all we want."

Scootaloo waggled her eyebrows. "I'll hold you to that."

"Ugh, pegasi." I rolled my eyes and walked out the door. "Come join us when you're decent."

"So you're thinkin' we should leave here, eh?" Apple Bloom said as I walked past her. "Where do you think we should go?"

I laughed bitterly and went back out to the living room. "Equestria, preferably. Since that's not gonna happen, though, I figured we'd all go to one of our human families for now. That is, unless any of you have better ideas."

Apple Bloom clicked her teeth and sat down at the kitchen table. "Can't say that I do, though I'm not sure that goin' back to Equestria's a good idea right now, even if we could."

"Discord would just curse us again," Babs agreed as she sat down beside Apple Bloom. "Assuming he wouldn't outright kill us."

I leaned against the back of the couch and looked up at the ceiling. Hearing them echo my earlier thoughts was comforting in that they recognized the same problem I did, but it didn't do much for coming up with a solution. I knew it was far too early to think about getting back home, but I couldn't stop myself from thinking about the long-term. We couldn't just stay hidden with our human families for the rest of our lives, and even if we could, we'd all go crazy from the confinement. I wanted to make sure that the decision we made now didn't close any doors, and so I at least felt it prudent to have a few goals set in place.

"You're assuming we'd be going back alone." I scratched my chin, and was only mildly surprised to not feel any stubble there. "I'm pretty sure that if we find a way back, it'll be because we've found somepony who's amazing at magic, not because we managed to engineer something ourselves."

"I'll bet Twilight could figure it out," Babs said. "Probably in a few days, knowing her."

Apple Bloom perked up. "Yeah! And if we find her, she could help us find the other Element Bearers! We could reunite with our sisters, Sweetie! Maybe even our whole families!"

My eyes went wide as I gripped the couch.

See my pony mother and father again?

Reunite... with Rarity?

"I, uh…" My mind blanked as I fumbled for words. It didn't seem that long since I'd seen them due to only just getting back my memories of them ten minutes ago, but regardless of what it felt like, it'd been _twenty-five years_ since I'd last saw them! What would I say to them? How would they feel about me living all this time, *shudder* as a boy? Would they accept me unconditionally? Would they reject me because I'd changed from who I once was?

Would they even recognize me at all?

"And how exactly do we find Twilight?" said a voice from the hallway. "Or did you overlook that tiny little detail?"

My train of thought was blissfully derailed by Scootaloo, who I was relieved to see was now fully clothed in her wife beater and jeans. Her fuschia mane and tail were messy and spiky as always, and an unlit cigarette was hanging from her mouth.

Apple Bloom's ears drooped, but she shook her head and stuck out her chin. "There's gotta be a way! We can keep lookin' on the Net—"

"I've been looking since you all went to bed." Babs got up and brought the laptop to the kitchen table. She bent the screen so we could see, and I saw she had multiple tabs open with search results and several news media sites. "There hasn't been anything about people turning into ponies yet," she said.

There was a silence as we all chewed on our thoughts. I knew we couldn't be the only ponies Discord banished here! He would've at least gotten my sister and the other Element Bearers, and possibly others, too. It was only a matter of time until somepony else showed up, but the question that plagued my mind was: would any of them have their pony memories?

"I should probably mention this now before I forget," I said.

The others turned to me, and I nervously cleared my throat. "When Discord put the curse on me, he was, um… _interrupted_ by Rarity, and I think that's why I was able to break free. It's probably why I was able to free all of you, too."

Babs whistled. "So getting your memories back was cause you got an incomplete version of the curse? Sheesh, talk about lucky."

"I'll say." Scootaloo said. She grinned and pretended to put on a pair of sunglasses. "You might even say it was a... _lucky break."_

Apple Bloom threw a coaster at her.

"It might also mean that the other banished ponies have no way of regaining their own memories!" I said with emphasis. "They might not realize who they really are! We could be the only ones that can help them!"

"We can't do squat if we don't know where they are," Babs leaned back in her chair. "We may have the 'cure,' but we don't know who to use it on."

I gritted my teeth. This was so frustrating! It was holding the winning numbers to the lottery without knowing where to turn them in and only having twenty-four hours to do so! I wanted to help my family! I wanted to help my friends! I wanted to get back at that bastard DIscord for doing all of this!

"Then we make them come to us," I growled.

Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow. "Whaddya mean?"

"I mean screw waiting for somepony to show up somewhere!" I made a slicing motion with my arm pointed at the computer. "If we wanna find our family and friends, we gotta let 'em know where we are!"

Babs' lips parted. "You don't mean..."

"Whoa there, nelly!" Apple Bloom said. "That's not a good path to be goin' down!"

"Speak for yourself!" Scootaloo cackled. "I like where this going!"

"We gotta do it!" I began to pace back and forth. "The Internet is anonymous and too large, but if we if show up somewhere live on TV, like during a live news broadcast, no one would be able to deny it! We could even get a message out to our family and friends! It'd go on national TV for sure and then—"

"HAVE YOU GONE INSANE?!" Babs got up and blocked my path. "You want us to go out and tell the entire world that we're aliens from another dimension?! There'd be mass hysteria! We'd be swarmed by angry mobs! We'd be taken by the government to be probed and dissected in a lab somewhere!"

I felt strangely calm as I met Babs' clear, green eyes. "You forget that we're also celebrities. Do you see anyone from Hollywood getting treated like that? You need to stop watching so many action and horror flicks."

"No, you need to get your head on straight!" Babs grabbed me by the shoulders. "We won't be able to get away once we've shown ourselves! We'll be tracked down. They'll figure out who we are. They'll take our family and friends in and tear their lives apart! Don't you understand? Everything we've ever known and loved would be investigated, scrutinized, and thrown into the public eye! Do you want that for your folks? For Angie?"

I looked down at one of her hands. It was still human, but I could see that the hairs on her arms we starting to lengthen and turn brown. I looked down at my own, and saw that the same was happening to me, save for with white hairs. As our humanity ebbed away from us, I couldn't help but feel less of a connection with my Earth family. I still cared about them, yes, but I wasn't even sure if they'd accept me as I was now. It seemed Babs thought hers would, though she could've just been in denial. It was obvious that her fear was making her conjure up the worst case scenarios, but I refused to believe that the society I'd been a part of for a quarter of a century would suddenly reveal some kind of xenophobic dark side.

I gently removed her hands and took them in mine. "I admit something like that could happen, but I don't think it'll nearly be as bad as all that. If we plan our appearance and prepare a statement, we can make a good impression and up our chances of being treated fairly by the authorities. They might even help us find the others!"

Babs shook her head. "They'll want to study us and learn more about us. They'll ask us questions about our society and anatomy that we won't be able to answer. I tried to say this before when we first broke free of the curse: Face it, Sweetie, we're in over our heads here."

My stomach twisted as I went back and forth between her convictions and mine. A large part of me agreed with Babs. It would be easy to just sit back and wait for somepony else to come in and save the day. But what if there was nopony else? What if we were the only ones that could help everyone we knew and loved? What if us sitting back meant that we'd never get home, and Discord would rule Equestria unchallenged for eternity? Was I willing to take that chance?

"You know, contrary to popular belief, not all humans are bastards," Scootaloo piped up.

Babs blinked. She stepped away from me and turned to Scootaloo. "Why do you feel the need to do that? We're trying to be serious here, Scoots. This isn't the time for witty quips."

"Ahaha, _Scoots_…" She smiled softly and took a long drag of her cigarette. "Now there's a nickname I haven't heard in forever. I only ever let you girls call me that, you know."

Babs swished her tail. "Don't change the subject."

"Well excuuuuuse me for reminiscing!" Scootaloo blew a puff of smoke in her face. "I wasn't trying to be funny there. I really am with Sweetie on this. If we spin this right, there's a good chance it'll be treated it as a first contact scenario. Combine that with our fame from the show, we'll be given the royal treatment! Hay, we can even say we're ambassadors or something, and if our pony bodies haven't aged at all, we'll get _major _sympathy points. After all, who's gonna mistreat a bunch of kids?"

Babs frowned. "There are so many things wrong with that plan, I don't even know where to start. You can't actually believe something like that would actually work!"

I wasn't surprised that Scootaloo was siding with me. I figured she'd want to act rather than hide, and if she had her way she'd probably have us all out in the middle of the street trying to start a conga line. I wanted to go public, but I wanted to do it in a controlled way, and I knew she'd back me up so long as I didn't drag my heels.

Babs, of course, was vehemently against me. I understood her misgivings, but she was blowing things out of proportion. Perhaps I was doing the same thing in the opposite way, but at least I wasn't completely shutting down other possibilities like she was. There would be details that would need to be ironed out, and yeah, it wouldn't be the sunshine and rainbows deal that Scootaloo was pitching, but I felt things would work out in the end.

Which left Apple Bloom. She'd been strangely quiet for a while now, and there was an analytical look on her face I knew she only got when she was contemplating something. She'd side with Babs if push came to shove, but we'd all agreed long ago that neither her nor Babs would consciously let their family bias influence group decisions. Apple Bloom was usually the last to give her input on things, which made her the deciding vote more often than not, and it looked like this time was going to be no different.

I watched Apple Bloom's eyes shift between me and her cousin. Babs and Scootaloo were going back and forth on something, but I wasn't listening. If Apple Bloom took my side, it was three on one. If she went with Babs, we had to keep debating or come up with another idea. I felt myself sweating as her gaze met mine, and after a few tentative seconds, she winked.

"Let's do it," Apple Bloom said.

"—willingly hoof myself over to a scientist to—" Babs stopped in mid-sentence. "Wait, _what?!_"

"I said let's do it." Apple Bloom calmly stood up and stretched her back. "Ain't no sense hidin' away for years and livin' out our lives without any hope."

"I never said we should!" Babs' voice rose. "I just think—"

"Applejack and the others are out there somewhere," Apple Bloom said pointedly. "They're out there alone, confused, and have no idea who they really are. We're the only ones who can help 'em, which means we gotta do everything we can."

"We can't do anything for them if we're in a government facility somewhere!" Babs protested. "How will they get to us if we—"

"Even if the world was as grimdark as you think it is, our captors would still help us if we told 'em there are others like us." Apple Bloom grimaced and stuck out her tongue. "Granted, they'd just do it so they'd have more ponies to experiment on, but at least then we'd all be together."

I almost pointed out the obvious hole in that reasoning, but as Apple Bloom was arguing in my favor here, I thought it best to keep quiet. It seemed Scootaloo thought the same, although if her silent laughter was any indication, she was having a harder time of it.

"What about our human families?!" Babs pointed to a framed picture on the wall. On it was a picture of two dozen people standing in front of a newly-erected barn. "They'll be dragged into this, too! We can't just—"

"Sugarcube, look at yourself." Apple Bloom guided Babs to a mirror that was hanging the wall opposite the stairs. Her mane was as red as an apple ready to fall, and slightly paler red streaks zigzagged all the way down her back. Her eyes were the color of summer grass, and her furry brown ears were slightly drooped from a combination of stress and anxiety. A trio of freckles adorned each of her cheeks, and her angular jaw was clenched tight with concentration.

"Even if we kept all our id's on us, the humans are gonna have a hard time believin' we've been living among 'em for twenty-five years," Apple Bloom said. "The only way they'd know anything about our human families is if we told them."

Babs said nothing for a while as she inspected herself, though the shocked expression on her face made it plain as to what was going through her head. We were all having trouble coming to terms with encountering a stranger in the mirror, and it was stressful not knowing what part of our bodies was going to change next. Granted, it got easier as time went on due to the list getting shorter, but that still didn't change that this was going to get worse before it got better.

"I barely even recognize myself," Babs murmured with a short laugh. "Half pony, half human… heh, I bet neither of my mothers would know who I was right now. I guess you got a point, Bloom, but I still don't think just up and shoving ourselves in front of a camera is the right thing to do. You sure you wanna back Sweetie up on this?"

Apple Bloom turned to me and gave me a searching look, which I returned without comment. She and I stared at each other for a few seconds, then she stepped in between the three of us and addressed us all in turn.

"We all know we were never the ones who saved the day back in Equestria. We never were here, either, and I don't think we're gonna be now. We don't got the power or courage or brains to go up against Discord, but that don't mean we still can't do something to help the ones that do. We got the potential to do somethin' that'll stick it to that dung-sucking varmint, and I'll be darned if I'm gonna hide away like some snot-nosed yearling. We can't afford to wait! We gotta find everypony as soon as we can, and I think Sweetie's idea is just the way to do that. Do I like it? Not on your life. Is it gonna be hard? You bet your bottom bit it will. Do I think it's the right thing to do? Yes ma'am, and that's why I'm gonna do it, plain and simple."

There was an awkward pause as we were all left momentarily speechless. There wasn't much I could add onto that, and apparently Scootaloo felt the same. It was clear that Babs was in the minority with her misgivings, and as she beheld the resoluteness in Apple Bloom's face, she knew that she'd lost. I looked out the kitchen window and saw that the sky was turning a dull pink, and when I looked back, Babs' posture sagged and she let out a long, breathy sigh.

"All right. We'll go with Sweetie's idea."

I withheld the urge to cheer. I hadn't actually thought the others would go along with me! It seemed things were going to move faster than I thought, and now we were going to take center stage for once! Rarity and the others would see us for sure on TV, and then we'd be able… to…

And that's when the gravity of what I'd suggested hit me full force.

We were going to go on TV.

"This is gonna be so cool!" Scootaloo rubbed her hands together. "We're not gonna get the exposure that we need from the local TV station, though. We'll need to go south to the city for sure."

We were going to make global headlines; attract the attention of _seven billion people._

"Good thinkin', Scoots." Apple Bloom shut down her laptop and began packing it up. "It's a two hour drive to get down there, and I reckon we're not gonna be able to drive for much longer. We'll need to leave by mid-morning at the latest."

Our message would be forever remembered in human history as the first encounter with a sentient alien race.

"I suppose we're not gonna be coming back here." Babs cast a despondent look around her home. "Let's figure out a plan and place to stay, then pack some things and get on the road."

We were going to see our pony families again. I was going to see _Rarity _again.

"Speaking of a place to stay." Apple Bloom turned to me. "You said Angie still lives down in the city, right? Think we can stay with her?"

Shmangie…

"Shit! Catch her!" someone yelled. "She's gonna—"

The floor rushed up to greet me as I fainted.


	6. Sisters Old and New

Chapter 6:

Sisters Old and New

_"Psst! Wake up, Shmage!"_

_A pair of hands gently shook my sleeping form. I blearily opened my eyes, and saw a pudgy red-haired girl a few years older than me standing at my bedside. Her purple and white pajamas hung awkwardly on her teenage frame as she happily danced in place with a blanket around her shoulders._

_"Come on, get up!" Shmangie smiled to reveal a mouth full of braces. "It's Saturday!"_

_The words cut through my grogginess like a razor. My eyes flew open with a surge of adrenaline, and I jumped out of bed with a whoop. Shmangie and I ran out the door together, giggling all the while._

_"It's finally here, it's finally here!" I sang as we bounded down the hall. "The new season of My Little Pony! It's gonna be great! Twilight and Pinkie and Applejack and Rainbow and Fluttershy and… and… shoot! Who'd I miss?"_

_"Rarity, _tonto_!" Shmangie tousled my hair. "How could you forget her? She's only the best pony in the entire show!"_

_"Is not!" I said with mock indignation. "She's second best! Twilight is the awesomest, smartest, coolest pony of all!"_

_"You're in denial, kiddo." Shmangie twirled the blanket around her like a cape. "The fabulosity of Rarity cannot be denied! One day you'll admit the truth, and on that day, I'll get to style your hair in any way I want!"_

_"Never!" I put a hand to my heart and raised my chin. "I shall stay true to the way! _¡Inteligente Púrpura ahora y para siempre!_"_

_Shmangie laughed. She hugged me and ran her hand down my face like she was petting it. "Never change, Shmage, never change."_

_We got to the living room and began the age old tradition of hunting for the remote. I searched under the couch and loveseat, but found nothing but dust bunnies. I got up and started digging through the cushions to see if it'd fallen in between the cracks when I heard Shmangie from behind me._

_"The item of power has been found!" She pulled out the remote from inside the recliner and sang out a familiar, four-note tune as she held it up above her head. She turned on the TV and flipped through the cable channels to get to the Hub._

_"I'm gonna get some cereal!" I dashed away to the kitchen._

_"Hurry!" Shmangie called after me._

_I went through the kitchen door and saw the good cereal on top of the refrigerator. As quickly as I could, I scrambled up onto the counter and snatched the sugary bounty. I didn't bother with any milk, as Mom wouldn't let us take liquids out into the living room._

_"It's starting!" Shmangie yelled. "_¡Apúrate!_"_

_"Coming!" I grabbed a pair of bowls and jumped down to the floor. I ran out of the kitchen and turned the corner._

_The world blurred, and I found myself in a circular workroom with mauve-colored walls and flowing fuchsia curtains. Featureless mannequines were carefully displayed in a row, each of them fitted with unique dresses of peerless quality. Cabinets and shelves stuffed full with fabrics and sewing materials lined the walls, and the setting sun shone in from from a bay window._

_"Sweetie," a familiar voice said from my right. "Bring the amethysts over here, would you?"_

_Rarity stood hunched over a workbench running a piece of cloth through a sewing machine. Not a single kind of makeup adorned her naturally fair face, but her mane and tail were in their usual elaborate coifs. A pair of sewing needles were in her mouth as she hummed to herself and adjusted her red-rimmed sewing glasses._

_"You just want them on the table?" I said, paying no attention to that I was in my pony body._

_"Mmhmm." Rarity replied without looking up._

_I trotted over to her and set down the bag I was carrying a short ways away. It became enshrouded in a blue glow, and a cloud of tiny gems floated out in her magic. Rarity interrupted her song to mutter a few complex syllables, and the amethysts dissolved into a fine dust. The dust then spread itself over the cloth and embedded itself within to give the fabric a beautiful, sparkling sheen._

_"It looks so pretty!" I said eagerly. "What else can I do to help?"_

_"Nothing," Rarity said. She turned off the sewing machine and placed the unfinished dress on a mannequine. "We're done for today." She stifled a yawn and took off her glasses. "I'm thinking it's a take-out night. What do you say?"_

_My eyes lit up. "Ooh, ooh, ooh! Can we have pizza?" I started hopping circles around her. "Please, pretty please?!"_

_Rarity chuckled at my sudden burst of energy. "I was thinking something a little more refined, but... you know what? You deserve a reward for being such a marvelous help all day. I wouldn't have gotten ahead of this deadline without you, so pizza it is."_

_"YAY!" I clapped my hooves. "Can I pick what we put on it?! I want a large deep dish spinach and mushroom pizza with extra cheese and alfredo sauce!"_

_Rarity stared at me with unfocused eyes. She shook her head and snickered. "I think I gained two pounds from just imagining_ _that. I suppose if we're going to forego all restraint, we may as well get those heavenly cinnamon breadsticks Pinkie had at her last party."_

_My mouth watered at the potential feast. "This is gonna be so great!" I zipped forward and enthusiastically nuzzled her side. "You're the best sister ever!"_

_Rarity laughed and nuzzled me back. "I try, dear, I try."_

_We walked out of the Inspiration Room together. Rarity went to the kitchen to place our order, and I went to the living room and settled down on the couch. My stomach growled in eager anticipation as I nervously shifted back and forth. I wished I could have some kind of snack while we were waiting! It was going to be at least a half-hour before the food got here! Maybe I could get some—_

_"That's the new villain!" Shmangie said through a mouthful of cereal. "Ooh, he looks so freaky! How many animals do you think he's made of?"_

_I blinked. Shmangie was suddenly sitting next to me and munching on a bowl of dry cereal. Her face was scrunched into a grimace as she stared at the TV across the room._

_"Wait, they're going into the hedge maze?!" Shmangie rolled her eyes. "Ugh, now there's a trap if I ever saw one. Why isn't Celestia helping them? And where the heck is Luna?!"_

_"Uh… " I began, but I stopped when I saw myself. I was nude, with my body caught halfway between human and pony. A bowl of my own was in my lap, and it was enshrouded in a field of emerald magic. I watched with fascination as several small cinnamon squares floated up and into my mouth._

_"Sweetie!" _

_Rarity appeared in the doorway wearing an exasperated frown."Don't go eating now when we've got dinner on the way! Say goodbye to Shmangie, and come help me set the table."_

_"NO!"_

_Shmangie leapt off the couch and stood between me and Rarity with her arms outstretched. "You're not Shmage's sister anymore, I am! You don't get to tell him what to do! He's not even sure he wants to see you at all! Your part in his life is done, and all seeing you will do is bring him pain! Go back to Equestria where you came from and forget you ever had a sister at all!"_

_I was utterly dumbfounded. Why would Shmangie say something so horrible to Rarity?! That's not how family treated each other! I tried to say as much, but found that my mouth was glued shut. I tried to move, but I was paralyzed by some unknown force. All I could do was sit on the couch and look on helplessly with rising dread._

_Rarity stood agape for a few seconds, but then her mouth twisted into a snarl. She stepped into the living room, and as she did, everything began to twist and blur. The room now flickered between the human and pony world like a TV channel picking up two stations at once._

_"Sweetie doesn't belong in world of barbaric, warmongering apes," Rarity said in a quiet, dangerous voice. "She was never meant to be here in the first place! She was a pony first, she was _my_ sister first, and there's nothing you, or anypony else can do to change that!"_

_"You expect me to just give up the brother I've had for twenty-five years?!" Shmangie's body shifted, and she now an adult. She was tall and slender, with long, flowing red hair that was stylishly curled at the tips. She wore a fashionable business suit that accentuated her features, and a diamond-shaped sapphire necklace glittered around her neck. Her face was flawless, save for her hazel eyes, which burned with indignant rage. _

_"I was there for him whenever he was hurt! " she snarled. "I kept him safe and watched him grow! We experienced things together that you'll never know, and you expect me to just throw all that away?!"_

_"Yes," Rarity said. She stopped a few feet away, and craned her neck to fearlessly meet the gaze of the irate alien towering over her. "I am the Element of Generosity, but if there's one thing I'll never give up, it's my family. I don't care what you did, or what moments you shared with her. I've already lost Sweetie once. I'm not going to lose her again." _

_I tried to squirm. I tried to scream. I couldn't even blink or twitch. I was nothing more than a vegetable as I watched my two sisters fight. They now stared at each other in silence, neither of them willing to back down so much as an inch._

_"We both know there's only one way to solve this," Shmangie finally said._

_"Indeed," Rarity replied icily._

_As one, they both turned to me. _

_"You must choose," Shmangie said._

_"You must choose," Rarity echoed._

_The living room was now gone. The couch I was sitting on melted world was a blurry mess of color that swirled around us like a vortex. I still couldn't move, but now I'd regained control of my mouth._

_"Stop it!" I yelled. "Idiots, both of you! You can't expect me to make a decision like that! There has to be another way!"_

_"There isn't." Shmangie's eyes were cold and hard; a corrupted version of the determination and drive I knew and admired. "You are a being of two worlds, _hermano, _but you cannot live two lives."_

_"You are displaced." Rarity's horn flashed, and the Element of Generosity appeared around her neck. "Out of balance with the natural order. You must decide one path or the other so that harmony may be restored."_

_"Screw harmony!" I struggled as hard as I could, but it was to no avail. "I'll find the other ponies! I'll study magic and science and technology all my life! I'll get the government to help me! I'll get Twilight—no, the princesses! They have to—_"

_"Fruitless," Shmangie said._

_"Pointless," Rarity said._

_I felt something wrap around my neck. I was brutally yanked forward to be only inches away from both of my sisters. Their faces were now stretched and malformed with wicked, sharp teeth._

_"Choose," they said in unison. "NOW."_

_"I CAN'T!" My face was now a mess of mucus and tears. My eyes were puffy and red, and my breaths came in shallow hiccups. The thing around my neck was cutting off my air, but I managed to get out a single, defiant scream._

_"I LOVE YOU BOTH TOO MUCH!"_

_Rarity and Shmangie hesitated. They both looked at me curiously without speaking, but then, they both broke out into chilling laughter. _

_"Pathetic."_

_The vortex of colors pulsed, and my sisters blended into a familiar, monstrous entity. Discord towered over me with a wicked grin on his mismatched face as his lion's paw glowed with the power of the curse._

_"Did you think you'd be able to free yourself without me noticing?" Bolts of violet lightning shot out from the chaotic storm at his words, and his tail doubled its grip around my throat. "You're nothing but a puppet to me, and I don't like puppets who cut their own strings. Free anyone else, and I'll make you watch as I flay the skin from your sister's bones. Then, I'll do so you to you in turn."_

_Discord leaned forward to press his face against mine. My vision clouded from both lack of air and mind-numbing fear. The last thing I saw were his foul, red eyes that blazed like stars._

_"Consider yourself warned."_

( *** )

"DISCORD!"

I awoke with a gasp and a shout. I shot bolt upright and flailed around in a fit of confused panic, screaming all the while.

"YOU BASTARD! IF YOU HURT EITHER OF THEM I SWEAR I'LL—"

My voice died in my throat as I realized I was alone in Babs' room. The lights were off, the door was closed, and I was sitting on the bed with the blankets strewn about. All was silent save for the sound of my own heavy breathing.

"Damn it all..." I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. "Damn it, damn it, damn it all! What am I supposed to do now?! WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!"

Discord had us trapped. He knew we'd broken the curse. He knew we had a tool to help our friends and family, but he'd make us pay if we tried to use it. They'd all treat us like complete strangers, and there wasn't a thing we could do about it.

"I don't w-want to be weak anymore." I balled my hands into fists. "I'm t-tired of not being able to help… of feeling helpless… I want t-to be able to do s-something!"

My frustration and despair pooled together into a cold, hard ball of rage. It swelled in size, filling me with the desire to inflict as much pain and suffering as possible. I didn't care if it wasn't right. I wasn't interested in becoming some kind of righteous hero. I wanted revenge, plain and simple, and I'd do anything to get it.

"I want to be strong…" I lowered my hands. A strange warmth burned behind my eyes. My vision turned green, and I raised my head and screamed as loud as I could.

"I WANT TO BE STRONG!"

There was a _fwoosh, _followed by a high-pitched whine. A sudden pressure built up in my head, then shot out with such force that I was thrown onto my back. I yelled in surprise as I was pushed deep into the mattress, and a painful tingling circulated through my body that made my limbs seize up. The force discharged itself with a crackling, sizzling sound, and the smell of ozone filled the air.

The sensation ceased. My body went limp, my vision returned, and I rubbed my eyes as I slowly sat up with a groan.

"What in the—oh, jeez..."

I trailed off as I beheld a scene of destruction. Well, okay, _destruction_ was too strong a word, but I'd definitely made a mess. The pictures on the wall had been knocked askew, all the items on Babs' dresser had been blown off, and the garbage can had been knocked over and spilled refuse everywhere. Dirty clothes were also scattered, though I wasn't sure whether that was because I'd knocked over the hamper or they'd been like that to begin with. Most disturbing of all, though, a single charred, black line ran from the middle of the ceiling all the way down the wall behind me and onto the headboard.

"So that's what a Flare feels like," I muttered. A part of me was grateful I wasn't as powerful as Twilight, as I doubted I'd know what to do if I turned somepony into a cactus. Then again, if I had that kind of magic I'd probably be able to solve a lot of my problems. I reached up and gingerly felt my horn. It was hot and sensitive to the touch, but was rapidly cooling down. I noted that it also felt longer than before, but I didn't have a guess as to its actual length.

I lifted the covers to see if any other part of my body had changed. Nothing immediate was apparent, although I did notice that I was naked.

"Scootaloo!" I pounded the bed and looked around for my clothes. I didn't see them anywhere. Babs' clothes were all around, though, and she was the same size as me, so I figured she wouldn't mind if grabbed some of hers. I chose a baggy white hoodie and a pair of jeans with a coffee stain at the knee. My hooves were fully formed now, so I didn't need to bother with socks or shoes. I idly wondered how much longer I was going to have hands as I used a pocket knife I found on the dresser to cut a hole for my tail.

I pulled on the jeans with practiced ease... only to have them slide off my waist and onto the floor.

"What the?" I stared at the jeans for a moment before picking them up. I examined the tag on the back, and found they were the same size I always wore. I held them up to my waist again. Not only were an inch and a half too big, but they were also a few inches long at the leg!

I scratched my head. What was going on? These pants should fit me! The only reason they wouldn't was if… I was..

Oh, for Luna's sake.

I facepalmed with an audible _smack. _This was something I hadn't been sure about, but I'd sincerely hoped it wouldn't be the case. Reverting back into a filly had its perks, the big one being an extended lifespan, but I'd had enough adventures going through puberty once. I didn't want to repeat the experience! Ponies probably didn't get acne, but there was undoubtedly something else just as bad I'd have to suffer through, and there was little chance I'd do so with dignity.

"Oh, to be young again," I muttered ironically as I went over to Babs' closet and hunted for a belt. I wasn't going to parade around in the buff until I had most of my coat back. End of story, this was not up for debate. I found a nice green belt that matched my eyes. I pulled it out, then put on the jeans again and cinched them up.

Much better. I did a quick walk around the room to make sure the belt held. At least I knew now why the girls had taken off my clothes. Come to think of it, though, where were they? I was screaming pretty loud when I woke up there, and my Flare had to have been anything but quiet! I'd have thought they'd have come running at that, but I didn't hear any sounds coming from anywhere in the house.

I wasn't sure whether to be curious or fearful as I went out into the living room, but either way, the mystery was short lived. I looked out the window, and saw all three of them milling around my car. Apple Bloom was bent over the engine and pouring oil in through a funnel. Babs was stuffing a duffle bag into the trunk, and Scootaloo had just walked around from behind the shed with a bag in her hand. All three of them were clothed, even Scootaloo, though she wasn't wearing a shirt. The reason why became quickly apparent, as she stopped and vigorously scratched her shoulder blades. Babs noticed her scratching and slapped her hand away, which earned her a one-finger salute in return.

I sighed and watched them for a few minutes. It looked like they'd gotten a lot done while I was out, and a glance at the living room clock told me it was a little after ten. I felt bad that I hadn't been able to help them, but it looked like they had things under control.

My mind turned back to Discord's threat, and with a jolt, I realized that his knowledge of our freedom completely changed our plans! We couldn't try and send a message on TV when he was watching us! He'd track Rarity and the others down, and, and…

Wait.

Why did Discord resort to threatening my family in the first place? Wouldn't it have been easier to just put the curse back on me? I mean, I saw his hand—paw, whatever, glowing just like it was before, it didn't make sense why he'd try to frighten me into cooperating unless—

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty!"

I jumped. Scootaloo was making her way up the stairs while scratching her back. "Welcome back to the land of the living! Guess this means I don't get to kiss you awake. Too bad."

"Scoots," I said. "We've got a problem."

She raised an eyebrow. "A new problem? Or are you referring to the splendiferous clusterfuck we're currently trying to claw our way out of?"

I stared levelly at her. "Discord knows we broke the curse."

Scootaloo stopped at the top of the stairs. Her face fell, and her ears drooped. "So the former, then."

I took her hand and pulled her over to the kitchen table. "He appeared to me a dream, and told me that if we tried to free anyone else—"

"Hold on." Scootaloo put her other hand on my shoulder. "You're gonna have to explain in the car. We're getting smaller by the minute, and we're not gonna be able to drive to the city if we hold out much longer. We gotta get to Angie's now."

I bit my lip. I wasn't sure if going to Angie's was the right thing to do anymore. On the one hand, Discord seemed pretty insistent that going against him would result in severe consequences. On the other, his actions in the dream didn't make any sense. Could he just not reapply the curse in a dream? Did he not have access to the human world? Why would he make his knowledge of our actions known instead of just hunting us down and taking us out?

Something more was going on. I wasn't sure what it was, but if my suspicions were right, it meant that Discord was putting on an act. A rather successful act, mind you, but an act nonetheless. It seemed that our next moves would have to be planned carefully, but there was no way in Tartarus that I was going to flat-out stop. That bastard had threatened my family, and for that, I was going to make him pay.

I let go of Scootaloo's hand. "All right. Is everything ready to go?"

"Mostly," she said. "We packed up everything while you were out, but we haven't been able to get ahold of Angie. I know she's really busy these days, but we're on a timeline here. We'd figured we head down there anyway and weather the freakout, so I came in here to get you so we could go... and also so I could scratch my freaking back in peace!"

I clicked my teeth. I really wished Shmangie was better about returning calls, but she'd always been that way. She didn't even call our parents back half the time! Scootaloo was right, though, we didn't have time to putz around. We were just gonna have to show up and hope she didn't throw too many things at us.

I walked around to see Scootaloo's back. None to my surprise, it was covered in soft, orange feathers that were lined up in angular, overlapping rows. I brushed a few back, and saw that the quills were protruding directly out of her skin.

"Gaaaah, gentle, gentle, gentle!" Scootaloo said in a desperate voice. "They don't have any magic in them yet, so they're just normal feathers! I already broke one of them taking off my shirt, and it hurt like hell to pull out!"

"Sorry!" I said quickly. Her actual wings hadn't started forming yet, so right now it just looked like she had a feathery blanket wrapped around her back. I left the nascent appendages alone and gathered my presents from beside the living room table. I tied the rapier to my belt, then gestured to the door.

"Shall we?"

Scootaloo smiled and raised her fist in the air. "For great justice!"

( *** )

The car ride to the city took a little over two hours. I told the others about Discord's threat in that time, and they came to the same conclusion that it didn't make sense. There was the possibility that it was nothing more than a dream and we shouldn't pay attention to it, but we were all pretty open to the possibility of dream communication at the moment. Discord obviously hadn't spared me out of the goodness of his heart, but as to what his true motives were? We didn't have a clue.

"I'm bettin' he ain't watching us all the time," Apple Bloom said. She was the one driving the car, as she was the tallest of us when we were fillies. "He may be powerful, but he ain't omnipotent. He prolly got somethin' tied into his magic that lets him know when somepony messes with it."

"He knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake…" Scootaloo was sitting beside me in the backseat heartily munching away from the bag that I'd seen her carrying earlier. It turned out that it was filled with leaves. I was surprised at first, but then I'd felt my teeth and realized I'd lost my incisors. I'd joined her in the snacking after that.

"So as long as we don't free anypony else, we can stay under the radar?" Babs stared out the window through the drawn hood of her hoodie. "Are we just gonna not tell ponies we can get them their memories back?"

"Unless you see an alternative," I said. I was concentrating on a small pebble resting in my palm. My vision zoomed on it, and I felt all its contours inside my mind. I felt the warm feeling behind my eyes again, and my horn glowed with emerald light. With a small hum, the pebble became enveloped in my telekinetic aura and hovered up a few inches in the air.

"Nice, Sweetie!" Scootaloo poked the floating pebble. "You'll be slinging fireballs and lightning bolts in no time!"

I snorted and let the pebble fall. "It's not much of a feat to do something all unicorns can to do by the time they're ten. If anything, I'm a few decades behind the curve."

"Hey, so am I!" Scootaloo pointed to her back. "Thirty-three years old and I'm _still _a dodo! We can go to remedial classes together! I hear this week they're learning how to count to potato."

"Better study for that one," Babs said while barely keeping a straight face. "I hear it's on the final."

"I see an alternative, Sweetie." Apple Bloom cut in. "We could let ponies know what the risks are, and ask 'em if they're still willing to go through with it. Course, that's dependant if whether or not _you're _willing to take the risk. From the way you're talkin', I'm not sure if you are."

I didn't reply. It was true that this whole memory thing was riding on me, and I was the one who'd pay if we drew Discord's ire. I loved both Rarity and Shmangie more than words could express, and I didn't think it was fair to make this kind of decision without talking to both of them.

I wish I'd told the others as such, but fortunately, I didn't need to. Without me even saying, they all understood how I felt.

"This is the exit, Bloom." I motioned to the upcoming turn off the highway and pulled out my phone. "I'll keep trying to get ahold of Shmangie."

"Got it," she said.

Shmangie had done well for herself in the years since she'd struck out on her own. Choosing to forego college, she went straight into the workforce and began working at a fitness center while living with a group of friends. She'd learned a great deal about the inner workings of a business as she made her way up the chain, and by the time she would've graduated with a bachelors, she was in charge of her own club and was being looked at for a district. Recently, she'd been allocated into human resources, and was now in charge of hiring for clubs in four states. Her above-average income, lack of a student loan payment and social network allowed her to nab a townhouse in the suburbs for cheap, and it was this townhouse that we currently found ourselves in front of.

"Doesn't look like she's home," Scootaloo said. "Should we wait?"

"Ergh, I don't know!" I re-dialed her number for what was probably the hundredth time. It wasn't even ringing anymore, just going straight to voicemail. I'd already left four messages. "She's bad about answering her phone, but never _this_ bad!"

Apple Bloom squinted at the dark windows of the two-story home. "Think somethin' happened to her?"

"Better not have," Babs growled. "Else we might have to buck some faces."

My sister had always been a responsible sort, so it wasn't much surprise that she'd been roped into keeping an eye on the four of us several times over the years. Fortunately, Shmangie was awesome, so it wasn't an issue. The others were very fond of her as a result, and as Babs was currently demonstrating, more than a little protective.

"Let's not call in an orbital strike just yet," Apple Bloom said dryly. "You know where she works, right, Mage?"

I nodded. "About fifteen minutes from here."

Apple Bloom shifted the car back into drive. "Tell me where I'm goin'."

"And what are we gonna do when we get there?" Babs gave us all a pointed look. "We're not exactly presentable. We don't even look much like our human selves anymore."

"We're not that far-gone yet," Scootaloo said. "Well, you three aren't, at least. My wings are starting to come in. If I put on a shirt it'll look like I've got a tumor."

I couldn't help but notice that I couldn't see as far out the window anymore. I'd already readjusted my belt twice, and it was already starting to get loose again. Apple Bloom was having to raise her chin higher and higher to see over the steering wheel, and at the rate we were shrinking I guessed we had about an hour before we ran out of time. I supposed we could try having one of us steer while another worked the pedals, but that seemed like a monumentally stupid idea.

"I'll go in," I said. "You girls stay out here and keep the car going."

"You're not gonna be able to hide your horn," Babs said with a tap to her forehead.

I looked at myself in the rearview mirror. My cheeks had become fuller, my eyes were wider, and my chin looked almost pointed. I looked like a girl in her pre-teens, and combined with my furry ears, cute little horn, and locks of mane spilling around my neck, I was reasonably sure I was downright adorable.

"Don't worry," I said with a mischievous grin. "It won't be a problem."

"What're you gonna say?" Apple Bloom asked.

"What do you think?" I pulled out the pocket knife again and started cutting my pants so I wouldn't trip. "I'm gonna ask for Shmangie."

Scootaloo pulled out a second knife and helped me with the other pant leg. "Isn't she a big-wig now or something? I doubt they're gonna let you just see her without a reason."

I laughed. "Oh, I'll give them a reason."

( *** )

"Hello, Ms. Raimundo?" a woman in her early twenties said over the phone. "Yes… yes, I know you're going over the membership figures with Tony… yes, I know you're technically on your lunch break, but a little girl showed up at the front desk and you're the only one here who speaks Spanish..."

_"_¿Dónde está Mamá!_" _ I wailed with very convincing tears._ "_¿Dónde está Papá! No quiero estar más aquí! Da miedo y huele raro y me quiero ir a casa!_"_

"Hey, hey it's okay." An older guy said in a soothing voice. He was crouched next to me and was trying to give me a candy bar. "We'll find your parents, don't worry."

I ignored him and continued to bawl.

The man ran a hand through his wispy hair. "Frick, it's been twenty years since I took Spanish… um... ¿Cómo te…yannas? Yalos? Yaras?"

It was evil. It was wrong. It was glorious in every definition of the word. No one even questioned why I was wearing a pony 'costume.' I was a panicked minor without a guardian, and the law said they had to take care of me whether they liked it or not. They'd taken me to a daycare room filled with toys and small plastic playground slides, and the woman was over by the door talking with my sister. I wasn't sure how she'd gotten a hold of her. Maybe Shmangie had a work phone she hadn't told me about? Regardless, I could hear the exchange thanks to my heightened hearing.

"No, no English at all." The woman spared a quick glance at me. "She just walked in from the parking lot and started crying… dressed up like a unicorn of all things, I think she's supposed to be in a play or something… no, I haven't called the police yet, I made an announcement over the PA and was waiting to see if anyone came up to claim her… alright…. yes… she's in the kids' room right now with Dan and I… okay, yes, we'll try to calm her down... two minutes? Thanks, Angie."

I withheld my sigh of relief. My biggest worry was that someone other employee here that spoke Spanish, but I'd lucked out. I kept up the waterworks for a little while longer, then gradually dialed it back until I was quiet. The man whose name was apparently Dan was still trying to ask me questions in abysmal Spanish, but I turned away and sat down with my knees hugged against my chest.

The door opened with a _beep,_ and the smell of cinnamon perfume tickled my nose. Shmangie walked in wearing a stark white, knee-high skirt with matching jacket and high heels. The same diamond-shaped sapphire necklace from my dream caught my attention as she spoke a few words with the woman at the door, then dismissed her and made a beeline for me.

A flicker of recognition crossed Shmangie's eyes as she closed the distance. My heart skipped a beat, but then I heard her mutter the reason why under her breath. "Dios, that's a good Sweetie costume."

I fiddled with my hands and tried not to look at her. No matter, I hadn't really expected her to know it was me anyways. That was why I had a Plan B.

The _click, click, click_ of Shmangie hurried steps made Dan look up. He patted my shoulder and stood to address her.

"Hey, sorry to drag you away. I got her to stop crying, but now she won't say anything at all. Maybe she'll—"

As soon as Shmangie was close enough, I sprung up and zipped behind her in a flash. I whimpered and buried my face in the small of her back.

"Miedo hombre," I said.

There was a dead silence. Shmangie stiffened from my sudden movement, but then my words registered with her. She looped an arm around me, and pushed me so that I was completely behind her.

"Dan," Shmangie said slowly, "what did you say to her?"

"Nothing!" Dan held up his hands. "Well, I did try to ask her some questions in Spanish, but I don't remember much so I might've accidentally—"

"Out. Now."

I shivered as I remembered all the times that commanding, authoritative tone had been directed at me. I couldn't see Dan's face, but I could guess what his expression looked like. He didn't argue further, he walked past us and left without comment.

It was only when the door had shut did Shmangie squeeze my shoulder and kneel down to be eye level with me.

_"What's your name, sweetie?" _she asked in Spanish.

I smiled warmly at her. _"Your favorite season is fall."_

Shmangie blinked. _"What?"_

I took a deep breath and spoke as quickly and clearly as I could. _"You had plastic surgery on your nose from when you fell off a swing and landed face-first your sophomore year. You love to draw, especially black and white portraits. You once spent an entire month sleeping on your back with your arms crossed because you thought you were a vampire. Your favorite chip flavor is sour cream and onion. You used to throw a blanket in the dryer right before we were leaving for school because your first car didn't have heat. You're a huge Batman fan and you secretly have a crush on the Joker. You don't like taco seasoning, so Mom always had to fry your portion of the meat separate."_

Shmangie's jaw was slack. She was reeling from the torrent of memories and random facts I'd spewed her. There was new recognition in her eyes now, but it was tainted with fear and disbelief.

_"How do you..."_

I had to remove that fear, so I kept going. _"You once got grounded for a week for throwing a party while Mom and Dad were gone. To this day, you think I told on you despite my repeated insistences that I didn't. You held my hand the entire time I had to get stitches in my eyebrow. Your favorite color is blue. We used to have a dog that would hide behind the toilet whenever there was a thunderstorm. You once ruined an entire load of laundry because you accidentally poured in bleach instead of detergent. You hate coming home because Mom always nags you about getting a boyfriend. You absolutely love My Little Pony, you're goddamn TERRIBLE about answering your phone, and most importantly of all, you're one of the people I love most in this world."_

The fear in her face faded away. Her hand on my shoulder tightened. The disbelief morphed into incredulousness, and she whispered one word that carried all the weight of the world.

"Shmage?"

A new tear escaped my eyes, this one as real as they come.

"Shmangie." I ran my hand down her face like I was petting it. "I need your help."


	7. The Abandoned Destiny

Chapter 7:

The Abandoned Destiny

"Of course my phone charger stops working the weekend everything goes to hell." Shmangie rubbed the bridge of her nose. "My BFF gets stranded in the middle of the city, my senior salesperson up and quits on me out of the blue, and now my brother and his friends discover that they're actually the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Just… rage. So much rage."

Shmangie's house was a spacious, two-story home with wooden floors and cream-colored walls. The furniture was mostly leather, and almost everything looked either new or barely used. Various black and white-portraits hung on the walls that Shmangie had made herself, with two of them being of me and another a group portrait of the girls and I. A sense of emptiness lingered in the air along with the smell of fresh paint, and Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Babs, and I now sat together on a cushy couch while watching Shmangie, who was pacing back and forth as I finished recounting everything that'd happened in the last thirty-six hours.

"It could've been worse," Scootaloo said. We'd all continued shrinking, and were now around three feet tall. Our clothes, save for mine, lay in a pile in front of the couch, and Scoots now bent down to pull a cigarette out of her jeans. "We could've discovered that we've each been injected with the cells of a dead alien that landed on Earth millions of years ago and is now slowly taking over our minds in an effort to revive itself."

Shmangie looked over at Scootaloo with a measured stare. In a fluid motion, she walked over and snatched the cigarette away.

"Ponies don't smoke," she said.

Scootaloo's eyes widened. "HEY! I—"

Shmangie crushed the cigarette in her hand. She held out the other, and repeated herself with terrifying, utter finality.

"Ponies. Don't. Smoke."

Scootaloo gulped. She hunched down with drooped ears, and nodded shakily while handing over the pack. "T-That's right. They d-don't."

I snickered. I'd mentioned before that Shmangie babysat all of us all the time when we were younger. What I didn't mention was the deeply-rooted respect we had for her because of that. She was always a person that others naturally looked up to, and that feeling was intensified in us because we knew she legitimately cared. We listened to her not for fear of punishment, but rather of disappointment, as we all held her approval in high regard.

Shmangie tossed the cigarettes into a wastepaper bin. She closed her eyes, collected her thoughts, then took a deep breath and addressed us all in a calm, patient voice.

"First off, you did the right thing in coming to me for help. God only knows the temptation must've been strong to give in to panic and hide away somewhere, so thank you for not doing that. I want you all to know that regardless of what you look like, or who you once were, you're still the same mischievous munchkins I used to play video games with, and I'll make sure your families know that."

There was a collective sigh of relief. It was one thing to assure yourself that what you're doing is right, but having somepony you looked up to agree with you is quite another. Having Shmangie vouching for us would ensure we weren't disowned or whatever by our human parents, which I knew had to have been lingering in the back of everyone's minds.

"Second." Shmangie met my eyes. "You're not going on TV. I get that you want to find the other ponies, but you'll do more harm than good by hijacking a live broadcast. Everyone would see you, kiddo. _Everyone._ Both good and bad, ponies and non-ponies, you'll be the talk of the entire world."

I held back the urge to shudder and straightened up. "That's kinda the point. Going on TV is the bargaining chip we'll need when we start talking with the government."

Shmangie shook her head. "You don't need to go that far yet. Make a website on the Internet. Post on forums or Tumblr or Reddit or Facebook. Hell, make a movie and post it on Youtube! You'll be able to maintain your anonymity that way, and—"

"—we'll only attract creepers, doubters, flamers, and trolls." I idly swung my legs back and forth. "We need something concrete. Something nopony can doubt! The anonymity of the Internet is only going to work against us in that regard, so we gotta do something extreme."

"We don't like it either, Angie," Apple Bloom said. She gestured to herself and the others. "But we don't see any other way. We were hopin' we could stay in your house while we figure the best way to go about it. Try to minimize the collateral, if ya get me."

Shmangie stopped dead in her tracks. She slowly turned to Apple Bloom and stared at her for several seconds with an unreadable expression.

Apple Bloom shifted uncomfortably. "Uh, what?"

"You…" Shmangie twitched. "Have... the accent."

Apple Bloom blushed and put a hand behind her head. "Heh, yeah. I got it when Sweet—IEEEEE!"

Shmangie pounced on Apple Bloom and began hugging the ever-living daylights out of her.

"That's so freaking cuuuuuuuute!" she squealed.

The three of us burst out laughing. In all honesty, I was surprised Shmangie had lasted as long as she had. My guess was that the crisis portion of all this had suppressed her inner pegasister, and so she'd shifted into 'manager mode.' The scales could only be imbalanced for so long, though, and Shmangie dealt with insane, stressful situations for a living. Heck, this wasn't even the worst she'd seen, if some of the stories she'd told me were to be believed.

"I can't believe this is happening!" Shmangie sang as she spun in circles with Apple Bloom. "I can't believe ponies are real! I can't believe Equestria is real! I mean it sucks that Discord banished you, but I can't get over that _I babysat the Cutie Mark Crusaders!_ Fluttershy has got nothing on me! My own bro—_sister_, sorry, is Sweetie Belle! Oh my God, that means I'm—"

Shmangie gasped. She dropped Apple Bloom on the ground, who swayed back and forth while her eyes did loop-de-loops. Shmangie looked over at me with a devious grin.

I gulped.

Shmangie walked over to me. Scootaloo and Babs paled and scrambled out of the way. I found myself alone in my sister's shadow as she stood in front of me with her hands on her hips.

"Say it," she said.

I had a moment of confusion, but then my stomach dropped out as I realized what she meant. I tried not to show it and put on my best innocent look.

"Say what?"

Shmangie didn't buy it for a second. "Nuh-uh. Finally, we can put this argument to rest! Admit the truth at long last!"

I considered maintaining the argument just for the sake of arguing. Unfortunately, I didn't see a way out this time. She had me pegged and we both knew it, and I couldn't have denied it for much longer, anyways.

With great reluctance, I swallowed my pride, hung my head, and muttered out my defeat.

"Rarity is best pony."

"YES!" Shmangie crowed and cackled like a maniac. "Victory is mine! Your mane is mine to do with as I will!"

"Yeah, yeah," I said, trying not to smile myself. "Enjoy your moment in the sun, sister. I'll turn the tables soon enough."

My plan was foolproof. First, I'd let her live out every brony and little girl's dream. Then, once she'd raised my adorable factor to astronomical levels, I'd unleash all my cuteness and put her in a diabetic coma. Oh yes, my pride wouldn't stay wounded for long. All I had to do was bide my time, and sweet vengeance would be mine. I wasn't looking forward to spending quality time with Shmangie, nor did I want to engage in girl talk, or see how my mane looked in various braids.

Nope. Not at all.

"Sorry to cut your sibling rivalry short," Babs said as she helped Apple Bloom to her feet. "But we should get back on topic."

"Nah, don't bail Sweetie out," Scootaloo said with a wry smirk. "I wanna see her get glomped next."

"Note to self," Apple Bloom muttered raspily. "Keep mouth shut around bronies and pegasisters."

Shmangie winced. "Sorry, Mikey. I couldn't resist."

"It's all right," Apple Bloom said. She then turned to me. "I'm startin' to think we need a different plan, Sweetie."

"What?" I said. "Why?"

Apple Bloom motioned to Shmangie. "What she just did is piddles compared to what a mob of fans'll do. Even if we do turn ourselves in to the feds or whatever right after goin' on TV, are they gonna be able to protect us?"

I rolled my eyes. "Unless they have anti-riot gear and weaponry for some other reason. That won't happen if we plan things, though."

"But what about other ponies?" Apple Bloom sat down on the floor. "We could start a worldwide hunt if we just up'n say the others could be anywhere and we're tryin' to find 'em. Should we really be blowin' the lid off all this so soon?"

I squared my shoulders. "The whole point of this is so we can choose how ponies get introduced to the world. We can start things on the right foot by taking the initiative, and then we can direct that hunt to find somepony before it's too late. It's easy to just want to hide away like Shmangie said. What if a pony is alone, does just that, then they wind up getting hurt or sick?"

"You can't only think of the good things and then act like you know what's right," Babs cut in. "Hiding might very well be the best thing for some ponies to do! Did you ever stop to think that other governments may not be excited to hear that they have aliens dwelling within their own borders?"

I flattened my ears. Why was Babs always such a downer? I understood she was still opposed to my idea, but jumping to the worst possible outcomes all the time created nothing but indecision and paranoia. I understood she was scared. We all were, but I wasn't going to let my fear control me, and I didn't want hers to control her.

"I don't hear you coming up with any better ideas," I snapped. "All I hear you doing is listing off all the reasons for why mine will only make things worse!"

"Because it will!" Babs folded her arms. "We've barely come up with any ideas at all on what to do, and you wanna gamble our futures on something we can't go back on without considering the repercussions!"

"Tell me, then!" I mockingly waved a hand at her. "What should we do, Babs? How can we find our friends and family when the majority of them are trying to hide?"

"Duh! We do what Angie's saying!" Babs leaned on the coffee table. "How about we try some less extreme things first instead of banking everything on a crazy gambit? We don't have anything to lose by posting on the Internet!"

"Neither does anypony else," Scootaloo drawled. "Which is why you can find everything from legitimate info to brain bleach. Our claims are gonna be tame in comparison to half the shit that comes up in a Google search. Not only that, but there's also the sheer size of the 'teh Interwebz.' A couple hundred forum posts and a few Youtube vids is just gonna be lost in the chaos."

"Uh, girls?" Shmangie said.

"It's still safer than what you two want to do." Babs pointed an accusing finger at me and Scootaloo. "Our actions could decide whether a friend, neighbor, a _family member_ lives or dies! Think about that for a second!"

I felt my frustrations rise. "You think I haven't?! Here's a brutal truth for you: anypony unfortunate enough to be in a country that terrorizes its own civilians never stood much of a chance to begin with. Heck, they may have already died years ago! The longer we go without finding the others, the greater chance there is somepony will never get home!"

Did I want it to be true? Of course not. Was it realistic? Very much so. The world was huge, and it was delusional to think that every single pony had been deposited in a first-world country. It was horrible, but we needed to accept the likelihood that at least one pony was already buried here. I wanted to find as many ponies as soon as we could so that number stayed low.

Babs glared at me, but Apple Bloom stepped in to continue. "That's exactly why we can't just rush into this, sugarcube. We need to try some smaller things first, test the waters and see how people react. We won't be able to try anything else after we go on TV, so we might as well try some smaller things before we jump to the big finale."

"We. Have. No. Time!" I viciously pointed to a clock on the wall. "What neither of you seem to get is that putting a message out on the Internet is like casting a few lines into the ocean and expecting to catch a few specific fish! Maybe if you'd come to college with me like I literally _begged_ you to, you'd understand that!"

"Girls!" Shmangie said again.

"Oh, heeeeeeere we go!" Babs rolled her eyes and raised her hands in the air. "I was wondering when you were gonna bring this up. Every single damn time you come home, all you do is harp on us for not coming with you on your useless descent into eternal debt!"

"I do not!" I said hotly. "And don't call it useless! It would've let me do more with my life than all of you combined before all this happened!"

"Excuse us for not needing a pricey piece of paper to know what to do with our lives." Scootaloo's normal cocky grin turned into a hard scowl. "Don't turn this into one of your pathetic, cardboard speeches on the benefits of college. You didn't listen when we told you we wouldn't make it through. You just wanted us to come with so you wouldn't be lonely."

"That's because I was!" I snarled and bared my teeth. "Every day I walked alone to class, every meal I ate alone, every freaking time I saw other groups of friends talking, laughing, enjoying themselves, all I could think about was the three of you, and how you weren't there with me! I missed you! I wanted you all to succeed alongside me! Realizing that you'd be doing nothing but farming and retail jobs for the rest of your lives hurt! A LOT!"

"When are you gonna open up those damn ears of yours and start listenin' to the things we tell ya?" Apple Bloom's voice wasn't raised, but her irritation was still evident. "Neither people nor ponies got the same definition when it comes to happiness. Money ain't somethin' the three of us hold in high regard, and we don't gotta go nowhere or learn new things to do things we wanna do. We woulda been _miserable_, Sweetie, and you'da been miserable too watchin' us fail and drop out."

"You wouldn't have failed!" I insisted. "The three of you are smart, whether you want to admit it or not! You just didn't want to go because you were afraid of taking a risk, just like now!"

"And _you_ never listened to us because you're too selfish, just like now!" Babs retorted.

"¡NIÑOS!"

My hair stood on end. I reluctantly turned and saw Shmangie wearing a very familiar frown as she looked down on the four of us through icy slits. We all immediately fell silent and became very interested in the floor.

"I'm beginning to wonder if changing back into fillies is affecting your maturity." Shmangie clucked her tongue. "Then again, the four of you never saw eye-to-eye on this in the first place, so maybe you just like opening up old wounds. Shmage, going to college isn't the end-all, be-all path. I never saw much point in it, either, and I think you'll agree I'm getting by just fine."

I tried to hide my wince as my pride took another big blow. I felt a not-so-subtle nudge in the small of my back as Scootaloo poked me with her elbow.

"But." Shmangie focused on the others. "You all know, or at least _should _know, that Shmage loves you like family. Families want each other to be happy, and he's—_she's_ seen and experienced things you haven't. How many times do you think she saw or did something in college and thought at least one of you would've enjoyed it?"

Shmangie's eyes softened, and she knelt down to be at eye-level with us. "You can't afford to be at each other's throats. You've been through a lot already, but you've got a lot more ahead of you before you get home. It's going to be hard enough as it is. Don't make it any worse than it has to be."

I pursed my lips. Leave it to Shmangie to hammer a point home without losing sight of the big picture. A part of me was irked that she'd remained neutral, but that would've made her a hypocrite. Deep down, I knew all the things that she and Apple Bloom were saying were true, but I was overriding their opinions with mine. They thought they knew what they wanted out of life because they hadn't been exposed to very much. They were content with what they had going in our hometown because it was all they knew. I was basically saying I knew better than them, and if they'd just give me a chance to prove it to them, they'd see that I was right.

Too bad they were just as stubborn as me in that regard. Or maybe, who knows? Maybe that was a good thing.

"I think you could use some time apart," Shmangie said after no rebuttal or reply came from any of us. "Shmage, come with me. The rest of you can make yourselves at home."

Scootaloo perked up. "Does that include the fridge?"

Shmangie's lips twitched. "Stay away from my wine, Little Miss Minor."

"Deal!" Scootaloo zipped away in an orange blur. "I'm so hungry I e—EEEAAAAAHH!"

It was then we discovered that running on smooth, polished surfaces like wooden floors doesn't work very well with hooves. Scootaloo slipped flat onto her face, and her momentum carried her all the way out to the far wall where she landed with a _CRASH!_

Shmangie facepalmed. "_Es décimo grado todo de nuevo…"_

"_Ponis y todos los," _I agreed.

"I'm okay!" Scootaloo said.

"Come on, Babs." Apple Bloom went over to our pile of clothes and pulled her tent-like shirt back on. "Let's go get the rest of the stuff outta the car before we're back on all fours."

"Was wondering why my back was starting to hurt," Babs muttered as she followed.

I glanced down at my own legs and noticed that my coat had started to spread up from my hooves. It was thick, incredibly soft, and pure white like I remembered. I also noticed that my hips had taken on an equine shape, and a dull, seeping pain was in the small of my back.

Shmangie noticed my grimace. "Want me to carry you?"

I looked at her with deadpan. "You just want an excuse to hug me."

Shmangie giggled. "Maaaaaaayyyybe."

I sighed and held out my arms. I figured I may as well let her get this out of her system in controlled doses rather than have her go into fangirl-mode again. Besides, it'd been a hard couple of days.

Shmangie came over and picked me up with ease. She hesitated, then bounced me up and down a few times with a confused look on her face.

"Wow," she said. "You're a lot lighter than Mikey!"

"Hey!" Apple Bloom shouted.

Shmangie held back a laugh and balanced me on her hip. "I didn't mean it like that! Are earth ponies supposed to be heavier than unicorns?"

I nodded. "Their magic makes their bodies denser. That, and Apple Bloom's always had more muscle from doing chores at Sweet Apple Acres every day."

Apple Bloom's eyes went huge. "You sayin' I mighta got my Geomancy back?!"

Babs' mouth formed into an 'o', and she did a happy little dance in place. "Ooh, ooh! I could have, too!"

"Geomancy?" Angie asked.

"Official name for earth pony magic," I whispered. "Applebucking, crop growing, horticulture, rock farming, and a few other things. Unicorn magic is called Arcana, and pegasus magic is Tempulari."

"Really?" Shmangie whispered back. "Why wasn't that ever in the show?"

I shrugged. "Hey, I'm not even sure how the show came to be in the first place."

"We need to do a test!" Apple Bloom said in an excited voice. "Quick, Angie! Do you have any trees in your backyard?"

Shmangie blinked. "A few, yes, but they're not apple trees—"

"Don't matter!" Apple Bloom was already gone, skidding and narrowly avoiding crashing into walls as she made her way to the back porch. Babs followed close behind.

"Wait!" I called after them. "Somepony might see you!"

"It's fine," Shmangie said. "It's the middle of the day and the backyard is completely fenced in. Besides, they'll just be mistaken for a couple of kids in costumes like you were at the club. Still can't believe you pulled the language card, by the way."

I chuckled. "Hey, sometimes you gotta play the hand you're dealt."

Shmangie took me down the hallway and into her room. It was decorated like the rest of the house, but there were several things I immediately recognized as mementos or things with sentimental value. A faded poster from one of the Batman animated movies. A worn bookshelf filled with various books and graphic novels. A desk covered with various pencils and drawing paper, and my personal favorite, a medium-sized Rarity plushie I'd gotten her for Christmas one year.

Shmangie set me down on the queen-sized bed and shut the door. She took off her sapphire necklace and outer jacket, then sat down at the desk chair and gave me a concerned look.

"How you holding up?"

I made a tired noise and fell back on the bed. "My mind's a pile of _blegh,_ my body's changing by the minute, and I'm so overwhelmed by everything I've lost that I can't decide if I wanna scream, cry, or break something."

"You don't look that bad," Shmangie said. "Well, considering what you _could_ look like, anyway. It just looks like your human parts have been traded for pony ones. Imagine what it'd be like if your entire body was all slowly shifting at once."

I tried very hard not to imagine that. Honestly, I did. I failed miserably, but let it be known that an effort was made. I now knew what was going to be haunting my nightmares when Discord wasn't hijacking them.

"Thanks for that, sis." I groaned as I felt my stomach turn. "I needed something to distract me from thinking about my past life."

"Sorry," Shmangie said. "How much do you remember? Did everything from the show actually happen?"

"Mostly." I compared my memories to what I recalled of the show. "They got a few things wrong here, exaggerated a few others there, but it was dead-on for the most part."

"What did they get wrong?" Shmangie crossed her legs. "Give me an example."

"Nothing huge." I sucked on my teeth. "The battle with the buffalo at Appleoosa wasn't actually fought with pies, the Flim-Flams were cousins, not brothers, and everypony knew that Twilight and Shining Armor were related long before he got married to Cadance."

Shmangie motioned to the plushie. "What about you and Rarity? What was the age difference? How often did you visit her?"

I stared at the ceiling with unfocused eyes. "She was twenty, I was eight. I was an unexpected addition to the family, but they loved me just the same. Mom and Dad had to work late a lot, but it wasn't an issue until Rarity moved out. I started visiting her about once a week then, although sometimes it was more than that."

"What was she like?" Shmangie held the doll up to her eyes. "To you, I mean. Obviously I've an idea of who she was around her friends, but the way we act around family is different."

I closed my eyes, and hundreds more memories washed around me like I was a rock in a stream. The times Rarity was angry. The times she was sad. Her successes. Her failures. Her flaws. Her strengths. Her quirks. Her ideals. Her feelings towards our parents. The sacrifices she made to be an entrepreneur. Her tendency to always give more than she received. Her somewhat misguided ideals about true love. Her selfless soul. Her fake accent. Her loving smile. I saw everything, not just the mask she put on when she was in front of the world. I was the stage hand who knew what went on behind the curtain, and while I had the complete picture, there were certain unspoken rules that came with it.

I sat up and met Shmangie's eyes. I chewed on my lip for a few seconds, then asked a question of my own.

"If Rarity were to ask me the same question about you, how would you want me to answer it?"

Shmangie opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She looked at the plushie in her hands and turned it over several times without saying anything. Finally, she adjusted her hair and put it back on the shelf.

"I suppose that wasn't a fair question. I'm sorry, kiddo, I didn't mean to divide your loyalties or anything. You know I've always related to her the most, and I was just curious if—"

I held up a hand. "I know. I don't blame you for it, but it'd be better if you made those judgments yourself when you meet her. You're technically family now."

Shmangie laughed nervously. "Always wished I'd had an older sister."

I gave her a curious look. "Technically, _I'm_ your older sister. You just got two in the same day."

Shmangie squinted slyly at me. "Past life, shmast life. I have older sibling powers over you and you know it."

I laughed. I almost felt relieved to see another person being nervous to meet Rarity, but I reminded myself that Shmangie didn't feel nervous for the same reasons. She'd be meeting an idol, I'd be meeting a long-lost family member who'd put herself in harm's way to save me. Not only that, but there was a good chance I'd then have to choose between the two of them, and I still didn't think I could do that. I supposed I could take the selfish way out and just not restore Rarity's memories. I'd still have mine, but it wouldn't be so bad if I knew she wasn't suffering like I was. Although, if either she or Shmangie ever found out I'd made that kind of decision without them, I'd have nine levels of Tartarus to pay.

Double big sister rage… I'd rather take on Discord than face that.

"There's a problem, though." I tapped my horn. "You remember me telling you all about the curse and how we broke it, right? As of right now, Rarity is nothing more than a human turning into a pony. Discord's already warned me not to free anypony else, and if I go against him..."

Shmangie exhaled out her nose. Several emotions flashed across her face in the span of a few seconds before finally settling on a contemplative frown. She reached over for her sketchpad and began drawing symbols on one side.

"Do you think the Mane Six can beat him without their pony memories?" Shmangie asked.

I lifted a pillow with my magic. "No idea. It'd depend on the kind of personalities they have now. The Elements of Harmony might not even accept them anymore—assuming that the Elements are even still around, that is."

"Mmm, I'll bet Discord's done something to them by now." Shmangie twirled her pencil in her fingers. "Celestia and Luna are probably in the same boat, so they're out. I doubt there's much of a resistance in Equestria, either. Hate to say it, Shmage, but there isn't much point in restoring anyone's memory until Discord's gone. Even if you do somehow find the other banished ponies and find a way back to Equestria, all you'd be doing is painting a big target over our heads—Rarity's, too. Now, if said pony had knowledge or experience that'd be a help in the fight or in getting you and the other ponies back to Equestria, that might be worth the risk. Although admittedly, that's a pretty short list."

I moved the pillow up and down in my telekinesis. Shmangie's points were all valid, but they still weren't easy to hear. I thought I had something that could be helpful, but it was too specific and risky to use haphazardly. The risk part wouldn't bother me so much if it was just me that Discord had threatened, but he'd gone for my family instead, and that made me think twice. I just wanted to help, to be useful and make a difference for a change! Was that so much to ask? But no, when I tried to take some initiative, all I got were ponies like Babs who just shot me down all the time.

"We're not going to find anyone on the Internet, you know." I floated the pillow over to her. "All that's going to happen is that the clock is going to tick away. Even if a real pony miraculously does notice and contact us, what then? How do we meet up with them? Where? Who pays for the transportation? What kind of transportation do we use? And all through this, we're trying to keep a low profile and hope we don't run into anypony malicious? It's just not realistic!"

"None of this is very realistic to begin with." Shmangie poked the floating pillow for emphasis. "Your chances suck, no matter how you look at it. I don't get why you're being so gung-ho about going on TV in the first place when it's clear the others don't want to."

"They don't know what they want," I spat. "All they ever want to do is play it safe and not take any risks! They'd rather miss out on a world of opportunities, just like I did when I—"

I stopped dead. My heart skipped a beat and my jaw went slack. I hadn't even realized it until now, but the longer I thought about it, the more things clicked into place.

"No…"

Shmangie stopped drawing and looked up. "What's wrong?"

I didn't want to see it. I didn't want to admit it. I wanted to divert my train of thought, but it was locked into place and barrelling away at full steam. My breathing became shallow as I glanced down at my thigh.

Shmangie came over to me. "Shmage! What is it?!"

The color had drained from my face. I felt dizzy and ill. I hadn't known at the time! I thought I was doing the right thing! All I saw down that path was a road of failure and heartache! I didn't think my passion would be enough, and so I'd taken the safe path instead of fighting for my dreams! What had I done? What did it say about me? All this time I'd—

"MAGELLAN GUILLERMO RAIMUNDO!"

That did it. I snapped out of my panic and saw that Shmangie was sitting next to me. She wore a stern look that barely veiled the concern in her eyes.

"Tell me," she commanded.

My throat and chest felt tight. I gritted my teeth and tried to stop what was coming, but it was like trying to plug a dam with silly putty. The tears came, and when they did, I gave up more than one fight. I stood up on the bed, shucked my clothes off, and revealed my mistake to Shmangie.

"That's not a computer," I said, motioning to my cutie mark.

It took her a second to understand, but when she did, she gasped and took my hand in hers.

"Oh, kiddo," she said with a gentle squeeze.

"I didn't know!" I said in a shrill voice. "I just didn't think I'd make it as a singer! There was too much favoritism and I didn't want to be a starving artist!"

"The human world is different from Equestria," Shmangie said. "You don't know that your destiny there would be the same as here. The magic of cutie marks might not even carry over!"

"Why wouldn't it?" I gestured to the fallen pillow. "Every other kind of magic has! All this time I _knew_ something was wrong, but I didn't know what it was. How was I supposed to know destiny is real?!"

"Listen to me." Shmangie tugged on my hand. "That you went to college and got a job in something else proves that cutie marks aren't the final say! Just because you have a singing cutie mark doesn't mean you can't do anything else!"

"No, it just means I won't ever be happy doing anything else!" I fell to my knees. "The others knew that on some level, they must have. That's why they never left home! Apple Bloom was saving up to buy her own farm. Babs watched the real estate market and ran auctions. Scootaloo was coaching little league! All of them were doing what they were originally going to do in their spare time, I'm the only one who completely split away from my calling and made myself miserable because I'm a spineless coward!"

"You're not a coward!" Shmangie said in a raised voice. "You didn't even make a mistake! You made a choice, plain and simple, and it doesn't even count because you were never meant to be human in the first place!"

"Who's to say it wouldn't have happened in Equestria?" I demanded. "Who's to say I won't do something like this again?! I abandoned my destiny, Shmangie! I abandoned my friends! I rejected the core things that make me who I am! I—"

_SMACK!_

I recoiled as a stinging pain struck my cheek. I put a hand to my face as I looked at Shmangie in shock.

"What am I to you?" Shmangie hissed. Her hazel eyes were aflame with reproach.

I stammered for a few seconds before managing to reply in a hurt voice.

"Y-you're my sister…"

"I'm your _family,_" Shmangie snapped. "Is family not important to you?"

I was taken aback. "O-of course it is! It's everything to me!"

"Then why isn't it one of those 'core things' you mentioned?"

I didn't have a reply to that. It was a slip of the tongue in a time of duress, but that slip was the equivalent of what Shmangie had just done to me. The apology was clear on my face, though, so she didn't harp on it any more than that.

"Get this through your head, right now." Shmangie's tone was one that brooked no argument. "It's pointless to endlessly dwell on mistakes and what-ifs. Your decision to play it safe and not take a risk with singing was based off of what you knew at the time, and the outcomes you were able to identify. You thought you were doing the right thing, just like everyone else, and that's nothing to beat yourself up over. You wouldn't be the person you are now if you hadn't done what you did, which is something everyone seems to forget when the look back on the past with regrets."

I closed my eyes and sniffled. I was hearing what she was saying, but it was hard to take in. I'd been feeling subconsciously guilty about giving up singing for almost ten years, and I'd taken several risks as an effort to try and make up for it. It was probably even the reason why going on TV felt like the right thing to do.

"Life is all about making decisions," Shmangie continued. "There are good ones and bad ones, but the most important thing is that you make them, period. It's hard to do, and it can be even harder to live with them, but the trick is knowing when it's a time to take a risk, and it's a time to play it safe. That kind of knowledge only comes with experience, and even then the best of us mess things up, but the more information you have, the better chance you'll be all right."

I looked up at her through watery eyes. "I don't want to be wrong again. I was too scared to do what I knew was what right once, and I've been paying for it. I don't want others to have to suffer, too."

"The reverse could just as easily happen." Shmangie looked away. "And believe me, that feeling is just as unpleasant. We have time right now, Shmage. The four of you are safe here with me, and there's no sense in barging into this without exploring other options. With your help, we stand a better chance at finding the other ponies online, and if we keep our eyes and ears open, we can decide what the next best move is."

And just like that, my resolve was broken. I still wasn't enthusiastic about the Internet thing, but I was at least willing to give it a shot. I knew how to make websites, I could program in three languages, and I was certainly no stranger to forum surfing. I knew where the best places were to make posts were, and my minor in communications wouldn't hurt for doing some efficient advertising. It'd be work, yeah, but I was confident I could do it after I got some practice with telekinetically using a mouse and keyboard.

Speaking of which, I looked at my hands and noticed that the fingernail on my middle finger was getting long, just like my middle toes had. My coat was now past my knees, and as I rubbed my face, I could tell my jaw was starting to stretch out. I was about eighty percent pony at this point, and I figured the transformation would be complete by tonight at the latest.

"I'm not going to wait forever," I said. "I'm not giving up on the TV idea, either. I'll help out with the Internet thing, but I'm also gonna be continuing my plans on the side. I just won't act on them."

Shmangie nodded. "I think the others will agree to that. Never hurts to have a plan B." She handed me a tissue. "Sorry about hitting you."

I took it and scooted over so I could lean into her. "I'm sorry for implying you didn't mean anything to me."

Shmangie put an arm around me and kissed my brow. "Hooray for bonding."

"Yaaaay," I said dryly.

_CRUNCH_

Shmangie and I jumped. The sound had come from behind us, or more accurately, from beyond the window and the backyard. We exchanged glances for a fraction of a second, then we both turned and looked out the window.

Apple Bloom and Babs were both standing beside a seventy-foot tall White Pine with a trunk over twenty feet in diameter. They were on all fours with their backs to the tree, and a veritable hail of pine needles and cones was falling all around them. Shmangie and I watched with horrified curiosity as they squee'd and bucked the tree again at the same time.

_CRUNCH_

The entire tree shook, and the fall of needles and cones doubled. They now began laughing and dancing around each other like kids on Christmas morning.

"Oy!"

Shmangie and I turned just in time to see the door open. Scootaloo stood in the hallway with a tub of ice cream in one hand and a spoon in the other. Her eyes were sparkling with joy as she shoveled another helping into her mouth.

"Lookie, lookie, lookie!" Scootaloo said, her eyes alight with glee. She turned and showed us her back, which was adorned with a pair of very real, fully grown-in wings. She gave them a flap, and I felt a gust of air blow through my mane and tail.

"I jusht got feeling in 'em!" she said around the spoon. "Angie, do you have any free weightsh? I wanna shtart shtrength training!"

Shmangie groaned and rubbed her temples. "What have I gotten myself into?"

I giggled and nuzzled her side. "Nothing you can't handle."


	8. The Sign

Chapter 8:

The Sign

The girls and I finished turning back into ponies that night. There wasn't much excitement or panic surrounding it; the worst thing that happened was a brief stint of awkwardness as we learned how to walk on all fours again. Shmangie did my mane up like Rarity's, and the others all got googly-eyed when they saw it. They started fighting over who would get to go next, and we spent the rest of the evening taking turns trying out various styles. Shmangie also had a gift for Apple Bloom: a big red bow similar to the one she always wore. She was elated, of course, and I don't think I've seen her without it since.

We began the cyberhunt the next day. I was the only one who could still use a computer at first, but Shmangie went out and got a few things so the others could help. We got these velcro straps that go around your wrists for holding things, and I had a dictation program on my computer in my old apartment. I downloaded it onto Shmangie's and Apple Bloom's computers, and we all began surfing the Net with ease.

I made the website that said who we were and what'd happened. We took a few pictures of ourselves for proof, but left any info about our humanity out. We used fake names for every registration process we ran into, and I even used a few tricks to prevent our IP address from being traced. Meanwhile, Babs watched the news sites, Apple Bloom kept an eye on social media, and Scootaloo sifted through seedier sites like 4chan.

There were some loose ends from our human lives to tie up before we could fully commit ourselves to the search. The first was quitting our jobs. We were gonna just call and quit over the phone, but then we remembered our voices had changed. We sent out emails instead with the cover story that we'd found employment at Shmangie's company. She even added us to her employee roster for legitimacy when we told her about it. It was just too bad she couldn't actually pay us.

The next was making something up to tell our families so they wouldn't think we'd gone missing. We bounced around a few ideas, but finally settled on that we'd gone on a roadtrip across the U.S. It wasn't that far-fetched of an idea, as we'd talked about it a lot our senior year. Obviously it never came to pass, but the point was that it was known constant amongst our families. They weren't exactly happy when we told them, and it certainly wasn't a permanent solution, but it at least bought us some time, and it kept them from calling the police.

There were other logistics issues as well: cancelling credit cards, shutting off utilities, withdrawing money out of our savings accounts, those sorts of things. I gotta tell you, you don't realize all the ties you have to society until you have to go through and cut them off one by one. It was really depressing, and even though Shmangie was there for all of us, it still really stung. The one bright side of it was that it motivated us to put our best efforts into the cybersearch, as finding everypony would put us one step closer to getting back home.

The website went up on May 6th. We kept an eye on world events, monitored the email account we'd created, and settled down to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

Annnnnnnnnnd wait.

And then just for the heck of it? Yep, we waited some more.

There are times in your life when you don't want to be right. We all have those moments where we say something pessimistic just because we don't want to go along with something, but that doesn't mean we want the endeavor to actually fail. True, I didn't have high hopes about finding ponies online, but I didn't want all our efforts to be for nothing, either. I figured it'd take a while, but ponies would eventually trickle in, we'd slowly establish a network, and once we'd found a decent number of them, we could make plans for meeting up and such.

We didn't find anypony.

Not a single freaking one.

It wasn't that our website didn't get any traffic. Quite the contrary, we averaged a couple thousand hits a day. The problem was that, as I feared, no one took us seriously. Most of the emails we got were blatantly trolling, fishing for information, or just thought we were doing some kind of live-action roleplay. A few were amusing, like the animation studio guy who complimented our CGI and told us to apply at his company. Others were downright creepy, like the two people who invited us to lolicon groups. We didn't respond to anything, and as the weeks dragged by, our motivation and productivity slowed to a crawl.

To make matters worse was the onset of cabin fever. This wasn't as bad as it could've been, as Shmangie's house was large enough that we could get away from each other for periods of time. We were even able to go out to the backyard at night so long as we took necessary precautions. Even with that, though, our antsiness built steadily, and our tempers began to fray. We found ourselves snapping at each other for no reason, arguing over meaningless things and trivial offenses. Shmangie did her best to keep us behaving, but there was only so much she could do, and she was stressed too from having to watch us all the time.

It was clear something had to give. I knew we had to do something more, but if the girls' first response was any indication, I'd have to have a fully thought-out, executable plan to present before they'd listen.

Fortunately, I'd been working on one as soon as I'd finished the website.

It was more something I'd done to kill time than anything else. The others all had their little jobs, but I didn't really have anything, and I knew I was gonna start bouncing off the walls if I didn't keep myself occupied somehow. So I sequestered myself away in the basement with my laptop, and began fleshing out a backup plan in case the cybersearch fell flat. I quickly fell into a routine of planning, practicing magic, and checking a usual list of websites, only coming upstairs to address biological needs and check-in with the others. I think they knew what I was doing, but seeing as they didn't ask me any questions, I didn't tell them any lies.

I found my thoughts wandering as the days passed. I asked myself a lot of existential questions, mostly about whether or not I wanted to take another pass at my initial destiny. I was a filly again, after all, so I could be anything I damn well wanted to be. Part of me still argued that I'd made the right decision in not pursuing a singing career. Heck, even with the life experience I had now, it was still going to be a tough road, and I might have an easier time of it if I just tried to build a life off the skills I'd already developed.

The other part of me, though, was quick to point out that I'd been miserable with my human life. I'd justified it by saying that things would turn around if I held out a little longer, but no matter how many hurdles I cleared, corners I turned, or achievements I earned, there wasn't any happiness to be found. The victories felt hollow, the rewards were meaningless and empty, and even despite knowing that it was the wrong thing to do, I still kept stubbornly trying to fit a square peg in a round hole. It seemed pretty stupid to continue down what was obviously a destructive path, so even if I didn't try to be a singer, I didn't think I'd be trying to do the same thing over again.

I suppose these things were pretty moot to think about at the time. After all, any and all life choices were dependant on a considerable amount of other factors, the least of which not being that we managed to return to Equestria. I couldn't very well resume my old life here, and even if I could, I didn't think I would. The ideas and goals I'd had as a human were dead and gone, and the only thing that meant anything to me now were the Crusaders and my family—both my families.

Speaking of family, it was Shmangie that alerted me that things were moving again. It was May 20th, a full two weeks after we'd brought up the website, and I was down in the basement as usual going through my magical training exercises. I could lift about twenty pounds at that point, and was starting to experiment with holding multiple things at once. I knew I didn't have Twilight's raw power, or Rarity's dexterity for that matter, but telekinesis was a useful skill, so I wanted to develop it as much as I could.

I was holding two ten-pound bags of sidewalk salt. I was completely focused on the magical task, the strenuous mental effort consuming all my focus and making me oblivious to the world. The two bags were floating a few feet off the ground, doing slow circles around me as I hummed in C Major. I was calm. I was in the zone. I could feel every contour of the items in my magical grip—

"SHMAGE!"

My concentration broke. The two bags fell to the wooden floor and skidded a few feet away in opposite directions.

"GET UP HERE, QUICK!"

I blinked several times. It took me second to process Shmangie's yell, but when I did, I scrambled upstairs as fast as my little legs would allow.

I found her and the Crusaders staring wide-eyed at the living room TV. They were watching the evening news, and the volume was turned up really loud. The newscaster was droning on about some kind of military disturbance, but that wasn't surprising as of late. There'd been a terrorist bombing in Seattle the same weekend we'd turned back into ponies, and then some kind of mishap in the airspace between the United States and Canada. We'd looked into both occurrences, of course, but the details were sketchy. Considering both matters concerned national security, we figured the government was withholding information until they could fully investigate, much like they did with the World Trade Center attacks. As such, there wasn't enough to suggest ponies were involved, and even if they were, the trail would be long cold before we could get to it.

No, it wasn't the newscaster's words that got my attention...

...it was the familiar prismatic shockwave spreading out over a city that earned that honor.

I sat down abruptly. "That's…"

Okay, _now_ I was listening to the newscaster.

"—no injuries or property damage seemed to have come from the disturbance itself, but the resulting panic has caused the majority of citizens to flee the city, leaving homes, shops, and businesses at the mercy of those who've chosen to brave the phenomenon's negative effects. Martial law is currently in effect, and all roadways in and out of Des Moines are completely jammed. Many have been forced to vacate the area on foot with only the clothes on their backs. The government has yet to release any official statement, but based on the projectile's geographical location, astrophysicists speculate that it's unlikely that this was an attack by a hostile nation. Rather, this is an astronomical phenomenon that was previously unknown to—"

"IT'S A SONIC RAINBOOM!" Scootaloo screamed. Her wings buzzed as she hovered a few inches in the air. "Rainbow Dash is alive! She's alive she's alive she's alive!"

I stood there in shock. There's nopony else it could've been. How many other creatures were there that could make an explosion that shattered the visible light spectrum? Rainbow Dash was alive and well, and not only had she revealed herself to the world, she was in the United States! Within travelling distance of us, even!

Babs snorted. "Of course it's Rainbow. Only she'd go and do something flashy and intimidating over a major city when the country's on high alert."

"Hey, lay off!" Scootaloo said hotly. She turned to her with her hooves on her hips. I noted that she seemed to be getting better at maneuvering in the air. Too bad she couldn't stay aloft for very long. "This is the first break we've gotten! This isn't a shady email or random forum thread, it's a feathering _Sonic Rainboom! _This is exactly what we've been waiting for!"

I was tempted to side with Scootaloo, but Babs did have a point. This was great news, but the timing was terrible. The government was probably scrambling trying to figure out how a high-speed projectile got into the middle of the United States airspace _undetected,_ as well as why it detonated prematurely. They'd be swarming the area trying to find answers, and they'd probably do almost anything to get them. It was going to be more difficult than ever to make a move now.

"It's so pretty," Shmangie murmured. Her eyes hadn't left the screen, which was still showing the Rainboom. "It's different from the show, though. It's like the Northern Lights, but brighter, and in a big circle."

I smiled. "Wait till you see one in person. Your skin goes all tingly when the magic passes through you, and it makes you want to laugh and sing and dance. It also makes everything smell like fresh spring rain."

I knew a thing or two about Rainbooms. Not because I'd researched them, but because Scootaloo had done a report about them for school back in Equestria, and she went full-on Twilight with it. She made diagrams, wrote out no less than ten pages, cited sources from various books, and even got Rainbow herself to come in and give a firsthoof account. Not like it was hard to convince the Queen of Modesty to talk about herself, but still. Scootaloo proceeded to spout everything she'd learned for weeks afterwards, which, while extremely annoying, had also made the information stick in my memory.

Sonic Rainbooms are a form of extremely advanced Tempulari. In order to perform one, a pegasus needs to gather together a massive amount of aether, which is naturally occurring, ambient magic found in the atmosphere. They then need to compress the aether into a space smaller than a pea, and detonate it all at once at the speed of sound.

The hardest part is managing the aether. Gathering it is easy, since the pegasus needs to be moving through the atmosphere, and the speed, while difficult, isn't impossible for an athlete to attain. Compressing it down, though, is the reason why Rainbooms are so rare. Rainbow described it as, 'trying to squeeze a house-sized snowpile down to a thimble using only your hooves while rocketing down to the ground at Mach One,' so that gives you a pretty good idea.

Sonic Rainbooms have two main effects. The first and most obvious is the enormous rainbow explosion, which is harmless save for the residual kinetic force. In fact, not only does the shockwave affect fauna in the way I described to Shmangie, since aether is a form of restorative magic, it can also heal corrupted or sickly flora. The second effect is that the caster's innate magical and physical abilities become supercharged for a short time. Their bodies are essentially overloaded with aether, allowing them to perform unbelievable feats of strength and speed until the excess magic 'bleeds out.' This is how Rainbow was able to save Rarity and the Wonderbolts at the Best Young Flyer's Competition, and why Rainbow's mane temporarily morphs into her namesake whenever she does one.

Like I said, full-on Twilight.

Shmangie turned to me with yearning in her eyes. "Urge to be Rainboomed… rising..."

I snickered. "One thing at a time."

Apple Bloom fiddled with her new bow. "You reckon Rainbow's the one who caused all that fuss over the Canadian borders, too? I hate to say it, but it sounds like something she would do."

"Which just leads to more questions," Babs said. "Why's she flying around and taking so many risks? Is she alone or with others? Is she trying to find other ponies? Are any of them in trouble? How's she avoiding capture or detection?"

"She's not avoiding detection," I pointed out. "The military is well aware something's hopping between the U.S and Canada. They just don't know that 'thing' is a small, flying cartoon horse."

"Or maybe they are, and they're making sure their equipment isn't on the fritz or something." Babs blew her mane out of her face and looked over at Scootaloo. "Not to discredit Rainbow's flying skills or anything. I'd just like to think that the people who can call in a nuclear strike aren't a bunch of clueless mooks."

Scootaloo landed and rested her chin on her hoof. "Haven't you been watching the news for the last two weeks? You should have a pretty good idea of how smart our government is by now."

A smile tugged at Babs' lips. "Hence why I said '_like_ to think.'"

"So what do we do, then?" Apple Bloom began pulling the wrapper off a granola bar. "Do we wait to see if more ponies show up in Des Moines? Or do we just pack up and head down there ourselves?"

Scootaloo replied before I could. "We should totally go!" her eyes were fervent and bright. "Iowa's not far away at all. We can get there in a day, and then we can start looking for Rainbow! She might know where the others are! She might know a way to get home!"

Shmangie cleared her throat. "Speaking as the one who'd actually be driving you there, the newscaster just said that the roads are completely jammed. I'm not gonna be able to get you girls within a hundred miles of Des Moines, and even if I could, I doubt you're gonna find any ponies in the city."

"I'll also bet that the place is probably swarming with military and government officials." I hopped up on the couch beside Shmangie. "They're gonna be looking for suspicious characters, and we don't exactly blend into a crowd."

"We can't just pass this up!" Scootaloo got off the couch and pointed at the TV. "This is a sign! A sign that Rainbow doesn't want us to hide anymore! She wants us all to meet up there! The Internet's been a bust, and we're doing nothing but wasting our time! We're never gonna get home just by sitting around and hoping they're gonna come to us!"

I kept my expression carefully neutral. That was one down, but I knew Scootaloo would be the easiest to convert. The challenge lay in convincing the others.

"We all know what Rainbow means to ya, Scoots." Apple Bloom gestured to herself and Babs, then to Shmangie and me. "But just packin' up and going to Des Moines isn't a smart idea. We need more answers first before we go sniffin' around."

Scootaloo rounded on her. "First off, you don't know whether we'll find anything or not. And second, how much longer do you think our families are going to buy the roadtrip excuse? How much longer did you plan on imposing on Angie's hospitality? What makes you think that doing what we've been doing so far is going to produce anything other than a stinking crapload of nothing? Tell me, Apple Bloom! Tell me why we shouldn't go after the only lead we've found in an entire fortnight!"

Apple Bloom remained as calm as ever. She took a bite of her granola bar, contemplated her response for a few seconds, then looked up at Scootaloo.

"A fortnight ain't that long, sugar—"

"Oh, don't give me that!" Scootaloo snapped. She shot a withering glare at all of us. "What happened to you guys? When did you become so worried about the consequences that it prevented you from taking action? We're the Cutie Mark Crusaders! We're MMPD! You know what we do? We go on adventures! We act on ideas! We aren't afraid to make mistakes! We cause mischief and mayhem, and we look adorable while doing it!"

We all gave her a bemused look.

Scootaloo swished her tail. "Okay, that last one was more of a Crusader thing, but you know what I mean! Am I the only one who remembers this? Am I the only one who still has their spirit intact? Why are all of you so scared all of a sudden?"

I decided to let this play out rather than give my two cents. It was no secret that I wanted to act, as I'd been pretty dead-set on doing so until Shmangie talked me out of it. My guess was that Scootaloo's accusations were aimed more at Apple Bloom and Babs. so there wasn't anything for me to add.

Speaking of Shmangie, I noticed she was keeping quiet, too. That's what she normally did when we had discussions like this, though. She really only stepped in if things started to get out of hoof or was asked a question.

"It ain't got nothin' to do with fear," Apple Bloom said. She crumpled up the granola wrapper and threw it in the trash. "It's about being sensible. This ain't like the shenanigans we used to pull back home or in Ponyville. The stakes here are high, and we can't afford to go bitin' off more than we can chew."

"Exactly," Babs said. "We don't even know why Rainbow chose to do the Rainboom in Des Moines in the first place! Was it because she wants ponies to meet there? Is she trying to make a distraction? Did she just do it on a whim, and she just happened to be in Iowa at the time?"

"Argh!" Scootaloo threw up her hooves. "I'm sick of this! I'm sick of you two spouting out pathetic excuses all the time! No matter what we try to do, from get-togethers to delegating tasks to making plans, one of you always turns a molehill into Mount-feathering-Everest! You wanna know what I think? You don't wanna go out and do anything because you're just a couple of feathering cowards! So much for the vaunted honor of the Apple family!"

I sucked in a breath through clenched teeth. Babs flinched and stared at Scootaloo in shock for a split second, then looked away with hurt eyes and pursed lips. Apple Bloom simply froze. She didn't look at Scootaloo, she didn't show any sign of anger, she simply became a statue.

"Dylan!" Shmangie yelled. "What the hell!"

Scootaloo ears drooped slightly at the rebuke, but she shook her head and avoided Shmangie's gaze. "No. This has been long overdue. It's about time I spoke my damn mind."

"Long overdue, my ass!" Shmangie gritted her teeth. "I've had it up to here with your attitude! Just because you've got nicotine withdrawal doesn't give you the right to—"

"Take it back."

The room went silent. We all turned to Apple Bloom, who was now staring daggers at Scootaloo. Her neck was corded, her posture was tense, and she spoke in a low, dangerous voice that made my hair stand on end.

"That was one of the lowest, meanest things you coulda said, and you know it." Apple Bloom slowly got out of the chair to stand only a few feet away from Scootaloo. "You're one of my oldest friends, and I love ya like a sister. You've slept in my home, eaten at my dinner table, and stuck with me through thick and thin. I'll forgive ya if you apologize right now, but if you don't, so help me Celestia, you and me are gonna trade a whole lot more than words."

This was a perfect example of what I hated about the Apple family. You know how Applejack always prided herself on being honest and dependable in the show? You remember how mad she got whenever somepony questioned her on it, or even worse, when said pony was right to do so, and Applejack knew it? Those feelings stemmed from a lot of things, but the biggest one a desire to defend the Apple family's honor. All Apples have a fierce sense of devotion and obligation to family, and they believe that their name and reputation is something to cherish and uphold. You can insult them all you like and they won't have a care, but they'll buck you into next week if you smack talk their family name. Babs wasn't as prone to this due to not being the fighting type, although she could be intimidating when she wanted to be.

Apple Bloom, on the other hoof...

There was a pregnant pause. Shmangie made to get up and separate them, but I stopped her with a shake of my head. We had a moment of wordless sibling communication, but I won out. She reluctantly sat back down and let events unfold.

Scootaloo didn't back down from Apple Bloom's challenge. "Sure, I'll apologize. All you gotta do is prove me wrong."

"I ain't gotta prove nothin' to you." Apple Bloom's back hooves twitched. "You know me better than anypony in the world, present company excluded. I ain't no coward, and I sure as hay haven't lost my spirit!"

"Then why?!" Scootaloo yelled. "The Apple Bloom I remember didn't sit back and hope that her cutie mark would suddenly appear! My best friend Mike didn't hesitate when he had to start saving up to buy his own farm! You've never been one to hem and haw like this; just because the stakes are higher shouldn't change that!"

Apple Bloom growled. "There's a big difference between trying to get a cutie mark, and runnin' headlong into a mob of hostile aliens! We'd be puttin' our lives at stake, Scoots! I don't know about you, but I'm in no hurry to get locked up and experimented on in some cold, sterile facility!"

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "You really think the government is going to ruin any and all chance of establishing peaceful contact with an alien race by holding us against our will and cutting us open? We're running more risk of that by doing what we're doing on the Internet!"

"They might if they find us snoopin' around Des Moines and then take us in secret," Apple Bloom said. "Humans are afraid of what they don't understand, and they might think we're dangerous and open fire before we even get a chance to open our mouths! We're just a buncha kids! We can't defend ourselves against fully armed soldiers!"

"So we take precautions and don't let them find us!" Scootaloo then pointed at me. "Or, better yet, we go with Sweetie's old idea and reveal ourselves in such a big way that the government can't cover it up! That way, they'd have to treat us right!"

It was beautiful. I couldn't have planned it better myself. Apple Bloom didn't look over at me, but I saw the flicker of doubt in her eyes. It seemed she really was worried about getting held against her will, but in my opinion, even if that did happen, it wouldn't be much different than our current situation. It might be better, actually: a facility would be bigger, we wouldn't have the constant fear of discovery looming over our heads, and we wouldn't have to worry about the future as much.

It might seem disturbing that I was looking at incarceration as a possible upgrade to our current situation, but it gives you an idea of how I felt at the time.

"Look." Scootaloo ran a hoof down the side of her face. "I get how much this sucks, and I really wish we had some better options, but we don't. Rainbow always used to say, 'You can't stand on the edge of a cliff forever.' We can't stay here, and going back up north is a step backward in my eyes. It's fine that we've been trying some safer options up to this point, but Rainbow risked herself to send us this sign. You and Babs are letting yourselves become paralyzed with what-if and doomsday scenarios, and I'm not gonna stand for it. We need to mare up, stop making excuses and just take the feathering plunge already."

Apple Bloom clicked her teeth. The anger was still plain on her face, but she was also shifting back and forth on her hooves. It was clear that Scootaloo's words had hit home, but now they were going toe-to-toe with the legendary earth pony stubbornness. It's not easy to get called out on something, as I can readily testify to, and the hardest lies to see through are often the ones we tell ourselves. We really were on the edge of a cliff here, and were scared, plain and simple. It would've been easy, so very, very easy to just run away somewhere and hide for the rest of our days, but that wasn't a future any of us wanted.

I looked over at Babs to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were watery, and she was stroking her own tail while watching TV. It may seem odd that somepony so sensitive would like to argue so much, but the truth is I wouldn't have it any other way. To put it simply, Babs argues because she cares. She cares about her friends. She cares about her family. She cares about anything and anypony that she perceives to have a connection with. She's always tried to be responsible, shrewd, logical, the one you can always count on to help you out in a pinch, no matter what. She'll never admit it, but she's an extremely considerate individual, and she absolutely hates it when others get hurt. The downside, though, is that she expects others to treat her the same way, and whenever she thinks an injustice is committed against her, she gets upset about it. She's better about it than she used to be, but some scars run too deep to be fully healed.

"We're not gonna be able to find Rainbow on our own," Apple Bloom finally said. "Des Moines is too big, she's too fast, and there'll be too many people around for us to not be seen. We're gonna need help."

Scootaloo nodded stiffly. "I know."

"There's really only one way to get that help."

"Mmm-hmm."

Apple Bloom turned to Babs. "You with us on this?"

Babs flattened her ears. "Not without an apology."

Scootaloo looked between both glowering Apples, then groaned. "Oh, for Celestia's—fine. I'm sorry I dissed your family. I'm also sorry that you thought for even a second I was actually serious. I'll be sure to insult something else next time that won't make you both so plothurt."

"Dylan..." Shmangie warned.

Scootaloo shrugged. "Unless you've got a cigarette, that's the best you're getting."

It wasn't as halfhearted as you might think. Scootaloo wasn't good at saying sorry to begin with, and she'd never been one to regret the things she said. It was too bad we didn't think to get her some nicotine patches, though. They probably would've helped her mood.

Regardless, both Apple Bloom and Babs seemed mollified. Apple Bloom sat back down, and Babs looked over and addressed Shmangie in a resigned tone.

"Guess we don't have any alternatives. Will you help?"

Shmangie frowned. "Let's hear what she's come up with, first."

I was confused at who they were talking about at first, but then, to my utmost joy, I suddenly found myself the target of four curious looks.

"All right, Sweetie," Apple Bloom said. "We all know you been cookin' up something these past few weeks. Spill it. What's the plan?"


	9. Finding the Trail

Chapter 9:

Finding the Trail

I haven't said what my former job entailed, have I? I was a Business Analyst at an information technology firm called Orbital Satellite Communications Incorporated. OSC owned and managed several geosynchronous communications satellites used to provide TV broadcasting, cable program distribution, business data network capacity, regional mobile communications, and other things of that nature. I was responsible for interacting with existing and prospective clients to figure out what they wanted, and make sure it was actually possible. I'd then convey that information to the computer programmers, and go back and forth throughout the project lifecycle to make sure everyone was always on the same page.

In a nutshell, I was a glorified liaison.

The job itself wasn't hard. I'd always had an amiable personality, and I had enough technical and business savvy to understand the problems and concerns of both parties. As long as I stayed on top of things, all I had to do was make phone calls, attend meetings, answer emails, and walk around cubicles to make sure no one had a problem they weren't telling me about.

The problem was that neither side really thought I was fully acting in their best interests, so they didn't have anything to do with me outside of the workplace. This resulted in an incredibly lonely and frustrating existence, and while I committed myself more and more to my work to try and compensate for it, it hadn't panned out. My co-workers politely declined my invitations or

made half-hearted excuses, the client was… well, the client, and my superiors weren't much better did little to assuage my own concerns when I brought them to light.

In short, I didn't have much love for OSC Inc.

Fortunately, company loyalty wasn't a requisite for using their satellites.

It was dark when I beheld my former workplace. The gray six-story building was empty, save for the first and second floors which were left open for a twenty-four hour customer service team. My office was on the fifth floor, so we'd have to get past them unnoticed in order to do what I needed to do.

"Is that the place?" Shmangie asked as she slowed down the car.

I nodded and pointed out the passenger's side window to a different building that was completely vacant. "Park over here. We'll go around the back."

OSC Inc. was in office park with tended lawns, manicured gardens, and carefully groomed pine trees that served as markers between the property lines. It was actually rather pretty, but I wasn't really interested in aesthetics. More importantly, it would provide lots of hiding places in case someone drove by.

Scootaloo laughed from the back seat. "Nah, let's just go in through the front! I'm sure they won't mind."

"That's the most boring-lookin' building I've ever seen," Apple Bloom said. Her breath fogged the window as she reared up to get a better look. "And all this hyper-maintained fake landscaping, to boot? Ugh, no wonder you didn't like it here."

"Are you sure we don't need anything else to do this besides putting rags around our hooves?" Babs asked. "I thought you'd have grabbed more out of your old apartment."

I giggled and patted the feather-light satchel at my side. "I suppose if you really wanted, we could've had Shmangie make some black latex catsuits for us."

"I totally would have, too," she said without any note of jest.

Babs smiled despite herself. "You know what I mean. Shouldn't we need more tools to break into a building? Like bolt cutters and lockpicks and fancy gadgets and stuff?"

I shrugged. "OSC has security, but it's not exactly the paragon of defense. We're not breaking into Fort Knox, here."

"Not that that's a bad thing," Apple Bloom muttered.

I undid my seat belt as the car came to a stop. "Not a bad thing at all."

The five of us got out and made our way through a copse of trees beside a pond. I took a deep breath of the air, the heady scent of pine needles triggering memories of the times I sat in this area on my lunch breaks. I did a lot of self-reflection here, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong and thinking up new ways to fill the odd void in my life. I never came up with anything, but I always found myself coming back to this same spot for some reason.

The reason why suddenly hit me with an abrupt shock. I stopped and fell flat on my haunches.

The others noticed and stopped. Shmangie came over to me. "Something wrong?"

I blinked several times and looked around with wide eyes. Sure enough, it was as I suspected.

"Home," I whispered.

Shmangie cocked her head. "What about it?"

I burst out laughing. "This place! It looks like home!"

"Uh…" Shmangie looked around. "Not even close, kiddo. We never had a pond, and we don't have these kind of trees where we live."

"No, no," I said with a snicker. "Not _our_ home, I mean my home back in Equestria! This spot is almost exactly like it, save for the buildings! No wonder I kept coming back here!"

"Wow, you're right!" Apple Bloom turned around once, seeing the place in a new light. "It's practically a dead ringer!"

"Ooh, ooh! That tree!" Scootaloo pointed to a maple twenty feet away. "Do you remember? We got so many things stuck up in it! Then one day we got a ladder and found like fifty things we'd thought we'd lost!"

Babs was looking over at the pond with a wistful smile. "I remember we used to go swimming off the dock on warm days."

"Oh, yeah!" I got up and trotted over to her. "And that one time my dad took us out on his boat and we pretended we were pirates!"

"The water wheel was on the far end over there!"

"We used to catch frogs over here!"

"The hedge bush that Sweetie's dad never trimmed!"

"Mom was always yelling at him to just cut it down."

"Remember when we went skating in the winter?"

"I liked the snowball fights, better."

"Or how about when we played in the leaf piles!"

"Or when we went digging for buried treasure!"

"Or when…"

It went on like that for few minutes. We were all talking at once, completely lost in nostalgia and comparing memory after memory. It wasn't something any of us really meant to do; that spot just... brought it all back for us.

Shmangie loudly cleared her throat. "Can we save the trip down memory lane for later? Possibly when we're not in the middle of an office park at midnight?"

Our banter slowly died away. We all exchanged sheepish looks, then I put a hoof behind my head and looked up at Shmangie.

"Sorry. It's just that, well… this place…"

I trailed off when I saw Shmangie's face. She wasn't mad at all, her eyes were kind, and she wore a sad, knowing smile.

"You'll get it back," she said softly.

I know she meant well, but those words were like a knife to the chest. My home was gone, probably destroyed or twisted into some horrid monstrosity. Discord hadn't cared that he'd uprooted our lives and shattered everything we'd known and loved, he'd just done it because there was a chance we'd get in the way. Can you believe it? Us, a quartet of eight year-old fillies, get in the way of the immortal Spirit of Chaos? How? What could we possibly do? What was so special about us?

I hated it. I hated the unfairness of it all. But most of all, I hated _him._ I hated every fiber in Discord's foul, malformed body. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted to make him scream. I wanted to do exactly what he did to us: take everything away from him, make him feel powerless, fall to despair, and then at his lowest moment, crush him like an insect.

Revenge. Sweet, beautiful, righteous revenge. I didn't know how, I didn't know when, but by everything I knew and loved, I swore right then and there that I'd avenge my lost life. I'd help reclaim Equestria in the name of vengeance. The ways of friendship and harmony had failed, after all. Perhaps it was time to try something new.

I squeezed my eyes shut and grit my teeth. The pangs of loss were mixing with the soul-blackening rage, and it was ripping at my insides like a windigo trying to claw its way out. Strangely enough, though, the sudden burst of anger sharpened my focus rather than dulled it. I had a goal for the moment, and I knew how to accomplish it. All I had to do was take things one step at a time. Take it slow, take it steady, make my moves in the shadows, and I'd be eviscerating Discord before I knew it.

I opened my eyes and spoke to Shmangie in a perfectly calm voice. "You're right. I will."

Shmangie looked at me curiously. It was sometimes a detriment that we knew each other so well, as she could tell I was hiding something. She let it go, though, and we continued on our way.

We approached the back of OSC Inc from the cover of the trees. There was little of note in the immediate surroundings, save for a large square of pavement with a picnic table that served as an outside smoking area. A three foot-tall plastic cylindrical ashtray stood beside a set of double doors that led into the building. The doors had a small electronic lock on them that was set by a small scanner on the right-hand side. The scanner was easily noticed thanks to its bright red light.

The ground at the edge of the trees became uneven and gravelly, but still our movement was silent thanks to the cloth around our hooves. I knew we'd make a lot of noise if we didn't have these, especially on the metal stairs and pavement of the place, and we couldn't afford to go slow.

"How close do you need to be?" Babs whispered to me.

I sucked on my teeth and judged the distance. It looked to be about fifty feet, which was quite a bit farther than what I'd practiced. I was in a mood, though, so I decided to try it.

"I should be able to do it from here," I said. "Just let me know if anyone's coming."

I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small plastic keyfob. Every employee of OSC had one of these, as it was the key to get in and out of the building. I wasn't sure if mine would still work or not, but it was worth a shot.

I felt a familiar warmth behind my eyes as I focused on the keyfob. It became enveloped in an emerald glow, and I directed it to float away from me. It hovered just a few inches off the ground and steadily made its way towards the door.

Scootaloo snickered. "This is kinda cool."

"Shh!" Babs said.

It was about at thirty-five feet that I started to feel the strain. The keyfob only weighed a few ounces, but the distance made it harder and harder to keep my magical grip.

"Coast is still clear," Apple Bloom whispered.

The keyfob was almost to the door. Just a few more feet. I grunted and lifted it just a little bit higher to hold it in front of the red light of the electronic lock.

_Beep… beep beep beep._

The light stayed red.

"Hayseed," Apple Bloom said. "Looks like you were right, Sweetie."

"Not surprising," I said through clenched teeth. "They're sticklers when it comes to the termination policy."

Shmangie leaned against a tree and crossed her arms. "So… Plan B, then?"

I hovered the keyfob back over and laid down on the grass. "Yep. Shouldn't be too long.".

Not long at all, as it turned out. I happened to know that there were several chain smokers on the customer service team, and they frequently went to the back of the building to have a cigarette. True to my predictions, a pair of middle-aged obese men stepped outside the door about fifteen minutes later. Then immediately pulled out cigarettes and began chatting with each other.

Scootaloo whimpered.

I put a hoof on her shoulder. "Stay strong."

"Don't give in!" Babs whispered.

"Resist the tobacco's siren song!" Shmangie said.

Scootaloo flattened her ears. "I hate you all."

"Aww, but we love you!" Apple Bloom said as she hugged her.

Scootaloo rolled her eyes. "So. Very. Much."

The two men talked for about ten minutes while they fueled their addictions, then put out their cigarettes and headed back inside. One of them swiped the lock with their keyfob, and the light turned green. They walked in and headed down the hall.

I focused on the swiftly closing door. I felt my vision zooming in, and I stretched my magical awareness out as far as I could. I was still a few feet short. I pushed farther, and I felt a painful sensation behind my eyes like overstretching a stiff muscle. Nevertheless, I now felt the door, and I tried to hold it open with telekinesis.

Holy crap, that thing was heavy! I let out a gasp as my aura flickered and died. There was no way I was gonna be able to prop it open from here.

"Sweetie," Scootaloo said.

I ignored her. The door was almost closed, and I had to think of something quick. The sides of the building were decorated with rock gardens lined with young bushes. I grabbed a stone the size of my hoof and wedged it in the door right before it could close all the way.

"_Got it! Go!_" I rasped. I started to move forward myself, but I stumbled and fell to my knees. Shmangie bent down and picked me up, and we all abandoned our cover and dashed inside the building. Once inside, Apple Bloom kicked the rock away, and the door closed with a _click._

We were now in a sterile break room set with uncomfortable-looking wooden tables and chairs. The walls were bare save for a bulletin board set with company announcements and policies, and the glaring fluorescent lights made us squint and blink like owls.

"Where are the stairs?" Babs said.

I wordlessly pointed to a door immediately to our right.

Shmangie opened the door for us, and we all slipped inside. We were now in an empty dim stairwell with bland white stairs spiralling upward.

I wiggled in Shmangie's arms. "Put me down. I can walk."

She hesitated for a second, but then slowly obliged. I was leaning against her leg and rubbing my temples when I noticed the others looking strangely at me.

"What?" I said.

"You got a nosebleed," Apple Bloom said.

I touched my muzzle, and I felt a warm wetness. I pulled my hoof away to find it stained a bright crimson.

"Oh," I said simply.

"Yeah, you're not climbing five flights right now." Shmangie swooped down and picked me back up before I could protest. "You can't use a computer very well when you're passed out."

I sighed in defeat and wrapped my hooves around her neck. "Fine. We'll need to stop at the bathroom once we get up there so I can clean this up, though."

"Will that be a problem?" Babs asked.

I shook my head. "We just need to be quiet until we get up past the second floor."

"Let's go, then." Scootaloo started up the stairs. The others followed close behind.

"_Idiota. _You shouldn't have pushed yourself so hard," Shmangie whispered as she took up the rear.

I sighed and stemmed the nosebleed with my satchel. "I didn't think the door would be so heavy."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah." I watched the stairs fall away from us as we ascended. "It's not an indication of a stroke or anything. I just need to not try anything big like that for a while."

I felt Shmangie's posture shift when I said 'a while.'

"I hope you're not going to make a habit out of putting yourself at risk like that," she said.

I groaned. "We got in, didn't we?"

"Don't you dare try to rationalize it," Shmangie hissed. "I'm not—"

She cut herself off as we reached the second floor. Apple Bloom, Babs, and Scootaloo simply trotted on past, as they were too short to be seen through the door's window. Shmangie, however, had to duck down and stealthily slip past. As she did, I heard the ringing of phones and snippets of intelligible conversation.

Shmangie continued once we'd gone up another flight. "I'm not going to sit back and let you throw yourself into harm's way just because you feel like you have something to prove. I know you're hurting far more than you're letting on, and while I'm glad you're not getting depressed about all this, bottling your anger up until it explodes isn't going to help, either. You're not alone in this, despite however you may feel, and the others need you as much as you need them. You did good in coming up with this plan, but I want you to promise me that you'll stop trying to do everything yourself from now on."

I pursed my lips. I didn't know if I could make that promise. I'd been flying on solo since high school, and it's not like relying on others was some kind of switch that I could flip on and off. I'd felt betrayed when the others didn't come to college with me, and as a result I'd told myself that the only person that I could totally rely on was myself. Friends were a luxury that I couldn't afford, and I needed to focus on the things that mattered if I didn't want to be flipping burgers for the rest of my life. In a way it'd worked, as I'd graduated in the top five percent of my class, but I'd become bitter and mistrustful towards others as a result. I knew it was wrong. I knew that I'd changed for the worse, but even if my reclusive habits were hurting me, it was hard to argue with results.

"I'll try," I finally said.

"Trying only means something if you put forth an actual effort." Shmangie gave me a gentle squeeze. "Will you? For me?"

I exhaled out my nose. I really hated it when she played that card. It wasn't fair in some ways, but I could do the same thing to her if I wanted, so I suppose it evened out.

"All right." I nuzzled her cheek. "For you."

We reached the fifth floor and exited the stairwell. It was dark, so the girls couldn't see what the place looked like, but I can tell you they weren't missing much. Ugly beige carpet, gray cubicle maze, white stucco ceilings, nondescript windows, and bare white walls save for a clock or two. I didn't want to turn on the lights in case someone outside took notice, so Shmangie put me down and I took the lead.

One stop at the ladies' room later, we were standing in front of my old office. It was at the far end of the building with a door that had a full-length window built-into it. It used to have a nameplate, too, but they'd already taken it down. I was only slightly disappointed. Honest.

"Still can't believe you had your own office," Shmangie muttered as she opened the door. "I didn't even get one until two years ago. Ugh! You even had a window!"

None at all to my surprise, my office belongings had been placed into a box beside the door. The only thing that was left was the desk, the chair, the whiteboard, and the computer.

Scootaloo fluttered up onto my desk. "If it makes you feel any better, I never had an office."

"You were a front-end manager at a grocery store," Apple Bloom said.

"And a damn good one, too!" Scootaloo beamed. "I had all the produce codes memorized, I knew where everything was in the store, I could bag the _shit_ out anything you wanted, and best of all, I got a discount on cigarettes!"

"The American dream," Babs said dryly. "Such a shame you had to trade it all in for the ability to fly."

"Meh, more like prolonged jumping at this point." Scootaloo hovered in midair a few seconds, then fell back down. "I need more power, cap'n! MORE, I say!"

Shmangie chuckled. "Your wings still need to grow in. You look like a hummingbird when you do that."

"Better a hummingbird than a chicken!" Scootaloo swiveled her neck and began to preen herself. "This is probably the weirdest thing I've ever said, but man, I can't _wait _for puberty."

"You've said weirder things," I said absentmindedly. I went over and inspected the computer. It looked like they hadn't disconnected it or anything, so we were still in good shape there. I turned it on and waited for it to boot up.

"Do you have everything you need?" Babs asked.

I smiled and took off my satchel. "Yep. It's all in here."

There were a couple hurdles to get over before I could access the satellites. The first was that I needed a viable username and password, as mine had been removed from the system. Fortunately, I'd had a mishap a few months back where some joker had hacked my mother's email and decided to send malware to her entire address list, and my computer had been completely ravaged by it. The admin gave me his username and password so I could still do my work while they redid my access privileges, and I'd written it down so I'd remember it.

A worn scrap of paper floated out of the satchel at my command. I glanced at it once to make sure I had the words right.

_Please enter your username and password._

_Username: Dame6512_

_Password: Th1s1sy0urb00terang_

_Access Granted. Loading your preferences and settings..._

You know, I never did ask him what that password meant.

The next problem was that the satellites were being monitored by the people downstairs. If I were to just jump right in and start fiddling around, not only would they know something was up, they'd also know what computer it was being done at. They'd come up to where we were, and well… you get the picture.

I had a way around this as well, but it requires a bit of explaining. When I was in college, I had a friend that might be described as a hacker. He called himself 'an opportunistic troll,' but that's beside the point. He was a perfectly nice guy once you got to know him, and we got along fine for the most part, but we barely ever saw each other because he spent almost all of his time writing code.

He had one glaring problem, though, and it was one that he clearly and thoroughly despised: He didn't have a car. He'd had to choose between getting one for a graduation present or building a new computer, and he'd gone with the latter. It drove him absolutely nuts that he couldn't even do simple things like run to the store for milk, and he was miserable for it. So, in an act of kindness, I let him use mine whenever he needed. There were some caveats, of course, but seeing as he wasn't the type to go out and party or anything, I didn't see the harm.

There are no words to express how grateful he was. We didn't have any problems with this arrangement, and in the four years I knew him, he did little things here and there to show his appreciation. One of those things was to show me how to prevent IP addresses from being tracked, which I'd done when I'd made the website. Another thing was to give me an old program he'd made called _Casper_, which for all intents and purposes, was a virus.

_Casper_ allowed a user to make changes on a network without anyone else seeing them. My friend explained that it worked by taking a snapshot of the database, and then displaying that snapshot as the current state. It was only believable so long as no one else tried to make changes, and that wasn't what he was trying to do, so he decided to give it to me. I didn't think I'd ever have a use for such a thing, but it was the thought that counted, so I'd held onto it.

Turns out I did have a use for it. The service reps downstairs were only supposed to investigate problems if they were called in by the end-users, and if _Casper _was only going to show them the system's default state, no one would think anything was wrong.

I disabled the computer's firewall and antivirus software, then pulled _Casper_ out of my satchel and plugged it into the USB port. I typed in the network's settings, linked it to the satellite system, and allowed myself an evil smile.

"_Su red es ahora mi perra._"I pressed Enter.

It took a few minutes for _Casper _to do its job. The OCS satellites serviced about a hundred thousand users all over the world, so there was a lot of data coming in and out. It eventually did work, though, and a simple pop-up screen notified me that I now full access to the satellites without fear of being discovered.

I rubbed my hooves together. "We're in."

"Damn," Scootaloo said with raised eyebrows.

Apple Bloom whistled. "Go, Sweetie."

Babs facehooved and shook her head. "Remind me, exactly. Why on Earth did you want to go on TV when you have access to a bucking _global satellite network?!"_

I laughed. "I didn't think of it at first. These satellites are contracted by the National Weather Service to transfer electronic data and track major weather patterns. You can track heat sources, sure, but cities just light up like Christmas trees. I've been working on a program the last two weeks to see if I could get rid of the excess and find ponies that way."

"But you were never trying to track heat in the first place," Shmangie said with a knowing smirk. "You were trying to track ponies down with something else. Something that no one else on Earth would recognize."

I took a deep breath. "Not like you can really blame them. I'm probably the only one on Earth who can tell the difference between electromagnetic fields and _magic._"

It was something I'd started thinking about after I'd had my Flare. I didn't know the specifics, but I did know that there was somekind of energy transfer going on whenever I cast a spell. The clues were all there: the damage I'd done to the ceiling, the spark I'd made whenever I'd broken the curse, the warm feeling I always got behind my eyes. I remembered Miss Cheerilee talking once about 'magical fields,' but she'd only mentioned it in passing and hadn't gone into detail. I suspected it was something we were going to learn when we started learning respective magics of our races, but that never happened.

So I didn't know anything about magical fields, but I did know about electromagneticfields, which form when a current of electricity is run through a conductive material. They had a lot in common with what I'd observed about magic: they could be switched on and off at will, they generated heat, and most interestingly of all, they could generate feedback loops. That last one led me to a theory, and while I'd no way of knowing for sure, I suspected this was how I was able to break the curse.

When Rarity had interrupted Discord, she'd inadvertently created in me the equivalent of a frayed wire. It stayed 'unplugged' for the twenty-five years while my magic was gone, but when it started to come back, that 'frayed wire' suddenly began to spark. Thus, whenever I introduced my magical field to someone else's through physical contact, I created a feedback loop, and caused the curse to overload and break.

Again, it was just a theory. It made sense to me, but this was _Discord_ we were talking about. Motherfucker laughed in the face of sense.

Anyway, based off the evidence I'd gathered, I came to the conclusion that _any kind of magical disturbance picked up by a human tracking device would be mistaken for an electromagnetic field_. I didn't think Rainbow had known this—scratch that, I knew she didn't, but her brashness had paid off this time. My original plan had been to see if I could hack into the satellite network remotely and find other ponies by searching for unusual electromagnetic fields. But since Rainbow had gone and left her calling card, I decided to throw caution to the wind.

.

I pulled up the satellite logs from earlier that day. I zoomed in over Des Moines, then moved the slider to the time of the Rainboom. I watched as a single, missile-like projectile appeared out of nowhere due to a sudden rise in temperature.

"There she is," I pointed at the screen.

"I'll be danged," Apple Bloom said.

"Go, Rainbow, go!" Scootaloo cheered.

Amusingly, Rainbow's blip went through almost the entire color spectrum as she gathered more and more magic. Her movement became choppier and choppier as she picked up speed, which was due to the satellite's transponder being unable to keep up with her. Then, when Rainbow was right above the middle of the city, the entire screen _exploded _with colorful light. I gasped and closed my eyes on instinct, and when I opened them again, there was no more sign of the blip other than a residual heat trail.

"_Dios_…" Shmangie breathed.

"Whoa, wait!" Babs said. "Go back! We lost her!"

I grinned. "I was hoping we would."

Babs looked at me. "What do you mean?"

I leaned back in my chair. "If it were easy to see where Rainbow had went, then anyone else who could see this information would've already found her. It's going to be tricky, but since we know what to look for, we stand a better chance of seeing where she went."

"And what exactly are we lookin' for?" Apple Bloom asked

I rewound to right after the Rainboom, then set it to play as slow as it could go.

"Help me look for a streak of white leaving the city."

The explosion played out again at an agonizingly slow rate. I kept my eyes open for our quarry, but I didn't see her on the first pass. The colors were all blending in together, and due to the darkness of the room, it was hard not to squint. Fortunately, there was someone in the room who _literally _had eagle eyes… on her mother's side.

"Pause it!" Scootaloo said.

I obliged. Scootaloo made me rewind a few tenths of a second, then leaned in and pointed at the bottom of the screen. "There. Just outside the city limits."

Even though it was expected, I still couldn't believe she'd found it so fast. I rubbed my eyes and let my them focus. Yep, there it was. A bright white streak almost indistinguishable from the rest of the light on the screen. It was only visible for the instant I'd paused it, and then it was gone again.

"That's... amazing, Dylan." Shmangie shook her head in dismay. "I can't believe you saw that."

I laughed. "Oh, I don't think she's done yet."

Scootaloo rubbed her chin and dipped into her extensive knowledge of all things Rainbow Dash. "She must've dipped down to avoid being seen. She was trying to escape, so she wouldn't have wanted to lose any of her speed, and she wouldn't have made any changes to her trajectory since she wasn't being chased."

I bit my lip. "Meaning?"

Scootaloo met my eyes with a grin. "Meaning she went straight until she decided to slow down.

We'll catch another glimpse of her if we follow her vector."

I turned back to the computer. "Show me the way, Scoots."

It took ten minutes of fiddling, zooming, fast-forwarding, rewinding, and reconfiguring, but we found her again. Rainbow had ascended again over the Mississippi River, two hundred miles away from Des Moines and was now starting to turn around and kill her speed. She'd gotten there in just under two minutes. I did some rough math, and I realized with a chill that she'd been flying at least _six thousand_ miles per hour to do that. Almost Mach Eight.

There really was only one word I could think of to describe such a feat.

"Awesome." I shivered with goosebumps.

"She's turning around." Scootaloo leaned in closer to the screen. "And the dot isn't as bright now, so she's starting to kill her speed. She wouldn't do that if she was going to be flying somewhere far away. She's definitely in that area somewhere."

"That's still a big area," Babs pointed out. "We could be searching for months and still not find her with only that to go on. We need to find her at least one more time."

Scootaloo clicked her teeth. "I don't know. She'd have exhausted most of the excess aether by that point, and I doubt she'd have flown up high enough again for the satellite to spot her."

"Let's just look," Apple Bloom said. "Ain't no harm in checkin', right?"

Scootaloo ran a hoof through her mane. "Yeah… all right."

I zoomed in the satellite to a fifty mile radius around where we'd seen Rainbow over the Mississippi, then let it play again. I let Scootaloo have control over the mouse this time, and we all huddled around the monitor. We kept our eyes peeled, but there wasn't any kind of blip to be found. Over the next twenty minutes, we consecutively cycled through thirty second blocks of time, but it seemed Rainbow had completely disappeared. A part of me was glad it was proving so difficult because it meant no one else had found her, either, but it was still incredibly frustrating.

I was just about to give up when Scootaloo pounded the mouse with a shout.

"GOT HER!"

We all jumped and hissed out a cumulative, "SHH!"

Scootaloo hunched down and bowed her head. "Sorry. I found her, though!"

I glanced at the screen. "Where?"

Scootaloo pointed again, this time at an almost imperceptible ghost of a blip at the very edge of the screen. It was tiny. It was faint. It could've been mistaken for some kind of interference, which was exactly what I'd thought it was, at first. No one would've seen it unless they were intentionally looking in this exact area, like we were, and even then, they still wouldn't think anything of it.

"You're bucking kidding…" Babs whispered.

"I'll bet she was tired and flew up to grab a cloud." Scootaloo folded her arms with a snicker. "That's the only reason I can think of to why she'd reveal herself again."

I wrote down the blip's latitude and longitude, then alt-tabbed and ran it against Google Maps.

An address popped up.

"It's a farm," I said with incredulity. "She's on some kind of farm, a dozen miles away from a small town in the middle of nowhere. That's gotta be where she is."

Apple Bloom suddenly seized both me and Scootaloo in a fierce hug.

"Ya'll are the best, you know that?!" she said.

Babs joined in the hug as well. "I can't believe it! I can't believe we found her!"

"Can't… breathe…" I choked. My ribs creaked as all the air was crushed out of my lungs.

Shmangie watched us with an amused smile. "You might wanna let go before they pass out, girls."'

Apple Bloom and Babs held on for a few seconds, but then obeyed. Scootaloo and I were left massaging our chests and taking deep breaths, and we met eyes to wordlessly come to the same conclusion. Earth pony strength was no joke. If that was the kind of power they had with their front legs, I didn't even wanna think about what they could do with their back ones.

Shmangie pulled out a pen and piece of paper and wrote down the farm's address. "Do you think anyone else might've been able to figure this out, Shmage?"

I sucked on my teeth. "Probably not. Satellite transponders can only transmit information so fast, and cameras are limited by frames per second. Rainbow was moving so fast that she was gone before anything could get a second reading of her, and since she's so small, she's likely to be mistaken for some kind of electrical disturbance. They might even think she's a lightning bolt."

"So you're saying you think this is a safe bet," Shmangie said. "We're not going to be walking into a trap, or anything."

I took a few screenshots of the satellite info, then put them on _Casper's _flash drive and started to delete everything I'd done. "I think the chances of anyone finding what we just did without the aid of superhuman vision, knowing Rainbow's flying habits, and the knowledge of magic behaving similarly to electromagnetic fields are worse than winning the lottery. Take that how you will."

"I'll take it!" Scootaloo said with a raise of her hoof.

"Seconded." Apple Bloom raised her hoof as well.

"Thirded." Babs followed suit.

I giggled and shut the computer down. "Good enough for you, dear sister?"

Shmangie looked out the window for a few seconds, then rolled her eyes and let out a resigned sigh. "So much for my PTO."

"Marvelous!" I slipped into my best imitation of Rarity's accent. "Pack up your things and prepare for a change of scenery, darlings. Our Dashing hero awaits."


End file.
